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Most people don't find out they have kidney damage until it's too late. Discover 18 early signs of kidney problems that often occur before the damage is too severe. When it comes to chronic kidney disease, prevention is key.0:00 Introduction: Kidney function explained 2:11 Early kidney damage signs 3:00 Stages of kidney disease 3:48 What destroys kidney health?7:07 18 visible kidney damage signs 10:08 How to prevent kidney diseaseHealthy kidneys are imperative to your overall health. The kidneys are situated deep within the rib cage, and have your adrenal glands on top. Each filtering unit of the kidney, called a nephron, contains a highly concentrated network of capillaries. There are 1 million nephrons in each kidney! This number often decreases with age, although it typically does not cause many symptoms. Kidneys are very good at compensating, even if they're 50% damaged. One of the earliest kidney health warning signs is protein in the urine. At-home urine tests detect the albumin-creatinine ratio, which you want to keep below 30 mg/g. The stages of chronic kidney disease are associated with specific percentages of nephron loss:Stage 2: 20% loss Stage 3: 60% lossStage 4: 85% lossStage 6: 95% lossThe good news is that if you catch kidney disease in time, it can be reversed. The following factors often cause kidney disease: •Ultra-processed foods •PFAS•Insulin resistance •Medications•Low vitamin D •Low magnesium •Low omega-3s •Poor sleep Here are 18 early signs of kidney disease:1. Puffy eyes 2. Swollen feet3. Swollen hands 4. Sudden weight gain5. Foamy urine6. Itchy skin 7. Pale skin 8. Dark circles under the eyes9. Bruise easily10. Dark urine11. Blood in the urine12. Less urine output13. Constantly tired 14. Restless legs syndrome15. Muscle cramps16. Poor appetite 17. Bad breath18. Nail changes Work closely with your doctor if you have stage 5 kidney disease!For your best kidney health, try increasing the following foods and nutrients:•Vitamin D, magnesium, and phosphorus •Omega-3 fatty acids•Fish and dairy•Green tea•Vegetables •Zinc•TUDCA•Curcumin Dr. Eric Berg DC Bio:Dr. Berg, age 60, is a chiropractor who specializes in Healthy Ketosis & Intermittent Fasting. He is the Director of Dr. Berg Nutritionals and author of the best-selling book The Healthy Keto Plan. He no longer practices, but focuses on health education through social media.Disclaimer: Dr. Eric Berg received his Doctor of Chiropractic degree from Palmer College of Chiropractic in 1988. His use of “doctor” or “Dr.” in relation to himself solely refers to that degree. Dr. Berg is a licensed chiropractor in Virginia, California, and Louisiana, but he no longer practices chiropractic in any state and does not see patients, so he can focus on educating people as a full-time activity, yet he maintains an active license. This video is for general informational purposes only. It should not be used to self-diagnose, and it is not a substitute for a medical exam, cure, treatment, diagnosis, prescription, or recommendation. It does not create a doctor-patient relationship between Dr. Berg and you. You should not make any change in your health regimen or diet before first consulting a physician and obtaining a medical exam, diagnosis, and recommendation. Always seek the advice of a physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition.

Tonight we bring you an unsettling missing time experience, creepy ghostly activity, puzzling glowing globs and so much more. Keep it spooky and enjoy. Season 20 Episode 20 of Monsters Among Us Podcast, true paranormal stories of ghosts, cryptids, UFOs and more, told by the witnesses themselves. SHOW NOTES:  Support the show! Get ad-free, extended & bonus episodes (and more) on Patreon - https://www.patreon.com/monstersamonguspodcast Tonight's Sponsor - Mint Mobile - Get 3, 6 or 12 months of premium wireless service from Mint Mobile for just $15/month, visit MintMobile.com/MAU MAU Merch Shop - https://www.monstersamonguspodcast.com/shop MAU Discord - https://discord.gg/2EaBq7f9JQ Watch FREE - Shadows in the Desert: High Strangeness in the Borrego Triangle  - https://www.borregotriangle.com/ Monsters Among Us Junior on Apple Podcasts  - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/monsters-among-us-junior/id1764989478 Monsters Among Us Junior on Spotify - https://open.spotify.com/show/1bh5mWa4lDSqeMMX1mYxDZ?si=9ec6f4f74d61498b Died in House website - https://diedinhouse.com/ Speakeasy Music EVP - https://www.youtube.com/shorts/ZGLWA69Cw0c Illinois Music EVP - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W5R_ztz-Y-Q Ontario Canada Music EVP - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mw5UMUx3rPU What are plasmoids - https://ntrs.nasa.gov/api/citations/20030067853/downloads/20030067853.pdf#:~:text=A%20plasmoid%20is%20a%20compact%20plasma%20structure,toroidal%20magnetic%20field%20(B%2C%20and%20Bt%2C%20respectively). Plasmoids video - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lUu0BZ0JhZs 2024 paper on UAPs - https://www.scirp.org/journal/paperinformation?paperid=136922#f1 Music from tonight's episode: Music by Iron Cthulhu Apocalypse - https://www.youtube.com/c/IronCthulhuApocalypse CO.AG Music - https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCcavSftXHgxLBWwLDm_bNvA Music By Karl Casey @ White Bat Audio - https://www.youtube.com/@WhiteBatAudio White Bat Audio Songs: White Lotus Monolith Crash Site Alien Ruins

A Holiday Haunting: Part 1 Jack returns home and reconnects with his old ghost crush. Based on a post by zeon 67. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. Oh. Shit! She's back. Jack had to drop everything and run to the living room; he needed to see her again. His coffee mug shattering against the kitchen floor meant little to him. Jack followed her out of the room, stumbling into the den and crashed into a chair. Any pain that he felt was instantly ignored; he just had to see her face. But she phased through the bookcase, leaving him disappointed. Ten years. It had been ten years since Jack had last seen Erin. Just a brief peek of her ghostly form, and Jack was a teenager again. The first time he met Erin, he was thirteen. Jack's parents had dragged the family from Boston to live in a stock horror mansion outside Portland, Maine. He hated everything about it, feeling depressed, isolated from his old life. Then he saw her. She appeared late one night as Jack attempted to fall asleep. His eyes widened as this woman floated in front of his bed. She wore a bulky, dark shirt with a lighter collar, a long apron over a skirt that reached her ankles and sensible shoes. Pale skin and white hair held up in a professional bun. She stood translucent and hovered a foot off the ground. Jack was freaking out, shaking under the covers and trying to release a scream. But watching her body float, her head crooked to the side with a curious smile, Jack felt an eerie calm. He sat up in his bed and examined her further. She was beautiful, an oval face with dimples, full lips, and wide, expressive eyes. He tried to guess her age, but it was impossible due to her intangible form. "Hello;" Jack said. His voice was hoarse and unconvincing. She smiled again at him before disappearing. "Fuck." Jack immediately fainted. He awoke late in the morning, still shaken. Jack ran down to his family, yelling at them in the kitchen at what he had just seen. His parents responded with blank looks. His sisters both snickered, cracking jokes about Jack's nighttime activities, and how it must have affected his brain. But as he continued, the jokes stopped, and soon Jack had weekly sessions with Dr. Miller. It was like a month until he saw her again. Jack was alone in the house and found Erin standing in between his bed. He screamed this time, but Erin just replied with a smile. She looked amused by his actions. She disappeared, and Jack had to wait another month before catching her on the stairs. But he had a plan, knowing what he should do the next time he ever saw her again. "Jack!" His mother yelled from upstairs. "What Happened!" Jack rolled his eyes. "It's nothing. I dropped my mug." He shouted back up, praying that his parents won't come down. Tomorrow was Thanksgiving, and Jack had returned home early, hoping just to relax and forget about Laura. Retreating into the kitchen, he ignored the mess he'd left behind. He wasn't that heartbroken about the end of the relationship; he just needed to get out of Boston for a while. Jack filled up a glass of water and took a couple of gulps, trying to steady himself. The plan was to drink, eat loads and watch football. But now, Jack was instantly consumed by the need to see Erin again.   Erin's Further Revelations. Jack rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He guessed that it was probably two in the morning. He should be asleep, but restless energy had overpowered him, just like when he was a teenager. The weeks after her second appearance, Jack woke early in the morning and saw Erin staring out of the window. She turned to him and then disappeared. Every couple of weeks, he would see Erin around the house, mostly in his room, but always when he was alone. Whenever Jack saw her, Erin would disappear, fade into nothing in front of him. After a dozen or so appearances, Erin and Jack got used to seeing each other over the year. He would see her, and they would exchange brief smiles before would Erin dissolve. Jack got used to finding her in random places, occasionally pretending that she was never there when Erin materialized during family dinners. Though she mostly appeared in his room. He was also sure that he was the only one who could see her, which developed a special bond as he aged. It was just a shame they couldn't talk to each other. Whatever break in the dimensions that brought her here didn't allow them to speak or hear one another. Over the years, Jack and Erin relied on non-verbal communication, making up their own sign language while also writing out words on paper. Jack's parents were weirded out one Christmas when he asked for a dry erase board. He would come home from school and rush to his room, wondering if that day was the day she would appear. If he found her there, Jack would tell her about his day, what had changed since they last spoke, and random thoughts in his head. She would eagerly listen to him and try to respond in her own way. She had become this nonjudgmental friend that he could bounce off from as he dealt with his new surroundings and the horror of puberty. It took two years for Jack to know Erin's name. They were together in his room; the house was empty apart from them. It felt that Erin had trained herself to emerge only when he was alone. Jack sat on his bed, talking to Erin. For the hundredth time, he had asked her name. She led him to the bathroom and pointed to the faucet. Running the hot water, he saw Erin smile as the bathroom mirror started to fog up. She clenched her jaw and pressed a finger up against the glass. Erin's face strained as her form became clearer as she wrote 'ERIN' in the mirror. The smile on Jack's face then quickly vanished as Erin faded into nothing. He wouldn't see her for another two months. Jack rolled onto his stomach, feeling his cock throb against his leg. Without any prompting, his mind cast back when he turned 18, and Erin gave him a special present. It was one of the few times that Erin appeared, when there were other people in the house. He was half-asleep, playing on his PlayStation when she materialized. Jack shuffled back and collapsed on the bed. There was something off about her that night, her body was trembling, and her face was stone-like. With great energy, her lips curled into a smile, and there was a flash. The clothing that Jack had always seen her in the last five years had disappeared into nothing, leaving her naked. A loud guttural groan escaped Jack's mouth; it was the first time he had seen a naked woman. Her body was slim, graceful, like a dancer, and perfect. He stared at her small but firm tits; Jack assumed they were B-cups and wished he could have his hands over them. Her skin then began to change, turning from a clear white to a fair skin tone. He noticed rusty-colored freckles dot around her angular nose framed by long reddish-brown hair. Then two bright green eyes stared back, overwhelming him. "Fuck," Jack whispered. His mouth dry, his stomach twisted into knots, and all the blood drained into his penis. He was in love or lust; it was all the same back then to him. Jack rolled off the bed and waddled to the bathroom, holding out the used tissue as far away from him as if it was toxic. He was only exposed to her for a few moments before she vanished. Still, Erin's naked form had been seared entirely in his brain, giving him special comfort during lonely nights. Dumping the balled-up tissue in the toilet, he started washing his hands. The general feeling of self-disgust hit him, but this time with more power. He was fantasizing about a long-dead woman. It's not right. He crawled back into his bed and reached for his laptop. Opening the browser, Jack thought to himself for a moment before going to incognito mode. He might need some privacy should anyone have a look at his search history. In the search bar, he typed 'Medium Psychic, And Portland, Maine.'   Ophelia's Services. The doorbell rang, and Jack quickly set down his coffee and rushed to the door. He briefly checked himself out in the hallway mirror; he looked normal. Jack wanted to make sure that he pulled that off, a navy oxford shirt, black jeans, and white sneakers, that all screamed normal to him. Jack then mentally thought about what he was going to say to the medium. It wasn't like he had a lot of experience in this. He could tell her about Erin, maybe use her name. Also, he could say where she usually appears and does. Probably shouldn't mention Erin getting naked as some kind of birthday present. He then wished that the medium agreed a later time just so he could rationalize having a drink. During Thanksgiving dinner, Jack told his family that he wanted to stay in Maine for a while, maybe until after Christmas. He had exaggerated the effects that the disintegration of his relationship with Laura had on him. It was a blatant lie; his parents knew it, his sisters didn't care, but no one really questioned it. He prayed that none of them would ever find out that he booked a medium. This Ophelia from Portland, Jack didn't know what he wanted from her. From movies, he had been told that ghosts that roam around usually have unfinished business. If somehow the medium was legit and could talk to Erin, he didn't know if it would be best if Erin moved on. Opening the door, a young woman stood, waiting impatiently. Their eyes met, and Jack was stunned to find his assumptions shattered. He was expecting a woman in her fifties, heavy makeup, and lots of necklaces, someone like that Long Island psychic. Instead, a woman stood in front of him who looked like she was in her twenties, with blonde wavy hair and a curvy figure. She gave an impression of an Instagram influencer with tight high-waisted jeans, a simple tee, and a suede jacket. "Jack Taylor?" she said, pinching her mouth shut and curving her lips upward. "Ophelia?" Jack arched an eyebrow without thinking. She nodded and walked past him, taking in the house. A Victorian-style mansion, built in the 1860s, with five bedrooms, a parlor, a giant fireplace that could fit a body, a near-constant fog-covered backyard, and a bloody-red painted door. She looked unimpressed. Ophelia raised her hands and fluttered her fingers, doing a sort of jazz hands while slowly spinning. Jack had no idea what he was supposed to be feeling, but she's young and hot. Was this a con? Did he want it to be one? "Do you want anything to drink?" Jack asked, trying to get a read of the situation. He then glanced at the clock. His parents should be home in a couple of hours; he had time. "I'm fine." She replied, flashing another smile. "Should we deal with the money first?" Taken back, he slowly reached for his wallet and pulled $150 in cash. He looked at the money and felt grateful that he would only pay an extra fifty if the reading exceeded the hour. Handing her the folded bills, Jack felt a breeze. Then the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Erin. He had been sensing her a lot, recently. "Nice house. Really Stephen King-like." Ophelia gave another forced smile. "Can you give me a tour?" Jack nodded and he took her to the home office, explaining what he had seen the other day. Ophelia took a quick photo and hummed; she felt nothing. Jack then led her around the house, describing where he had seen Erin and what she would do. Ophelia stayed quiet for most of the tour, her phone in her hand, occasionally checking it. He then explained his relationship with Erin. Jack recounted every meeting he had with her, including how he found out her name. When Jack said that he was the only one in the house that had ever seen Erin, he noticed a quick change in Ophelia's face. She definitely assumed that he's psychotic. As they climbed the stairs to Jack's bedroom, Ophelia suddenly became talkative. She put away her phone and asked several questions at rapid-fire speed. "So, who previously owned the house before you moved in? Erin, do you know her last name? Where she's from? Was she born here? Has anyone called Erin lived in the house before?" Jack knew nothing. He had known Erin for ten years and yet knew nothing about her. The house must have been her home or where she worked. He now knew what he had to find out, but Jack had no idea how he would research such things. Speak to a local historian, maybe? He should go to the library tomorrow. They entered his bedroom, a familiar feeling of cold hit his body again. Jack eyed the psychic; there was no change in her body language. Maybe she's a fake. Ophelia wandered around the room, doing the jazz hands again and calling Erin's name. His eyes narrowed on her chest, then to her slim waist, and then to her tight ass; she looked cute. It had been some time since Jack had anything close to sex. It ended with Laura over two months ago, and since then, a brunette ghost was the only thing he had to female company. Ophelia reached in her jeans and pulled out a velvet pouch. Opening it up, a nub of chalk fell into her palm. She then bent down and drew a circle just in front of Jack's bed. The circle was about three feet wide. Ophelia then drew four smaller circles inside the ring, north, east, south, and west. Jack watched her place crystals in each circle, wondering if he would be able to clean the chalk off his floor. "What are you going to do?" Jack asked, trying not to stare at the medium's ass. "I am going to summon Erin. I am going to see if we can talk to her and find out her unfinished business." "What would her unfinished business be?" "It could be anything," Ophelia said, looking around the room. "Some want revenge, especially if they were like murdered. Others are looking for missing rings, lockets or whatever. With my help, Erin could be able to move on." Jack nodded. She was right. It was fun seeing her again, he missed talking to her, but there had to be some conclusion for Erin. After Christmas, he will be back in Boston. Maybe it was best that she moved on, got closure from this world. The psychic then took off her boots and stood inside the circle. Kneeling, Ophelia raised her arms, praying to the ceiling. "Erin; Erin; Erin;" she chanted, raising her head, "Speak to us. Speak; Erin, come to us; come to Jack and me." She sang Erin's name a couple of times with no change in her composure. "Yes, Erin, I hear you. How can we help you?" Ophelia said, lacking any emotion. "How can we help you move?" Ophelia then went silent and very still. Her back was arched, and her head pointed up. Leaning in, Jack realized that her chest wasn't moving anymore; was she even breathing? Beads of sweat flowed down her face as the rest of the body began to tremble. Something was wrong. Ophelia then shuddered and Jack could see the color disappear from her face. She then slowly stood up. Looking at Jack, she gave him a warm smile. "Jack!" Ophelia then said, emphasizing the wrong parts of the name. Jack walked around and stood in front of her. Her body language was weird, not so closed off as it was before. Her eyes then focused on her left hand, marveling how far it was extended. The tips of her fingers then ran down Jack's chest. The broad grin on Ophelia's face got even wider as she felt him up. "It is me, Jack; Erin." Ophelia grinned. "No." Jack shook his head and took a step back. This had to be some weird psychic con. Was Ophelia going to sleep with him? "Ophelia, I think you should get out." "I am Erin." She closed the distance and reached for his hand. "I can prove it. You told me everything and I listened. Once you were overly excited in your classroom by a teacher. You frequently enjoy lobster rolls. And once I removed my clothing for you on your birthday." Jack whimpered, trying to collect his thoughts. Before he called Ophelia, he had read up on cold reading, but she knew things that he had never shared with anyone. Jack hit his bed frame and toppled over, hitting the mattress. He tried to compute what was going on, justify Ophelia's insider knowledge of him. But then the blonde climbed up on the bed, her body floating as she straddled him. This was real. "Jack; I missed you." Ophelia or Erin then leaned in and kissed him forcibly. Quickly sneaking her tongue into his mouth while she rubbed her body against his. Moaning as his tongue dueled, Jack was lost in a world of teenage lust. He had dreams about this, spent countless hours awkwardly pleasuring himself to the fantasy of having sex with Erin. But as he opened his eyes and remembered the blonde hair that flowed above him, this wasn't Erin. Maybe in spirit, but not in body. He pulled his face away and sighed. "Erin; no." Jack said, trying to push the possessed medium off him. "Not like this." "What?" Ophelia screamed. She shot back up and glared at him. Her eyes became demonic and bloodshot. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, breaking his skin. She began to shake and wail. "No; No; No!" "Erin; Erin!" Jack tried to get her attention. He reached up and gently touched her face. "I just want to talk to you. Please leave Ophelia." Ophelia's face contorted into a smile. Jack could tell that something was pushing back against Erin. Maybe it was the medium's spirit wanting to regain her body. She thrashed around on top of him, going from sweating to shivering to back to sweating again. Jack snuck out of her convulsing frame and watched with concern. The medium then slammed into the mattress, bounced high up in the air, and then back down. Jack watched her breathe slowly and rolled onto her back. She looked confused and tired. "What the fuck happened?" Ophelia asked as she sat up, her frazzled hair covering her face.   Researching the Franklins. Jack ended the call and rubbed his eyes. The pains of working remotely, struggling to stay productive while also being forced to over communicate just so he won't be called a slacker was too much. The only good thing about his job was that he could move back to Maine and still collect a paycheck. But yet, he hated taking calls from his bosses when it's technically his day off. He knew he shouldn't be cursing his luck. Last night, his parents gave him some excellent news. They needed to go to Springfield and help out Jack's aunt with something. Jack wasn't listening, just focusing on the part when his mom said that they will not be returning until Christmas Eve. Yes, it meant that Jack would have to prepare the house for the holidays, put up the tree, buy the food and sort out the presents. But it also meant that he would be alone in the house; he could plan and try to talk to Erin. Maybe even help her. Finishing his latte, Jack looked up the address for the library and the closing time. Since Ophelia's possession, Jack hadn't sensed Erin's presence. It was worrying. He tried to focus on absorbing as much information about the house. Jack learned that the house was built in 1860 for the Franklins. For more information, he had to drive into the city. As he walked into the library, his heart was thumping in his chest and sweat coated his forehead. Why was he so nervous? Yeah, he had created this pubescent fantasy, and Jack wasn't sure how he would react if that was cracked. What if Erin was an awful person; her death could have been just, and that she was using him. But he still had to find out. Jack sat down at the computer and entered his address and the Franklins in the search bar. Skimming through the records, he got a brief understanding of the family that built his home. Jedidiah Franklin was a local lender who had moved from Boston to Maine due to some unpleasantness. He was followed by his wife, Alice and their two children, Robert and Emma. Franklins lived a dull and typical life and died in the 1900s. "Nothing about Erin," He went through local newspapers and again found nothing odd. Going through the search results, Jack quickly realized that he had been wasting his time, and it was pointless. By the time he reached the fourteenth page, he was about to leave. But instead, he clicked on the link about a stagecoach accident involving the Franklins. Jedidiah, Alice, Robert, and their maid were returning late one night. Their stagecoach collided with a rock, and the maid was thrown out. She died instantly. The article gave the maid's name as Erin O'Ceallachain. Letting out a loud sigh and rubbing his face, Jack then searched for Erin O'Ceallachain. There was little about her. A short obituary that stated she was born somewhere in Ireland and died in 1898. She had been a maid for the Franklins for close to a year. There were no descriptions of her or any clues of her past. Jack leaned back and stared at the screen. It could be her. He had checked; there were no other women called Erin that lived in the house. This could be her. But, if she died on the road, then why was she haunting his home. The loud sound of his phone vibrating against the desk pulled him out of his thoughts. Jack saw that he got a text from Ophelia. She really wanted to speak to him. Ignoring her, Jack continued his deep-dive on the Franklins, trying to find anything. Even a morsel of information about the family would help. After another hour of research, he ended up on the website of an antique bookstore in Bangor. They had Alice Franklin's diary and it was for sale.   Tomes of Inquiry. Two days later, Jack sat in the home office and stared at the five-hundred-dollar book. It was too much; he should have tried to haggle them down. Jack wasn't even sure if the diary would be useful; it could be another Alice Franklin or just a list of mundane observations. Jack finished another beer and opened the diary. His hands were trembling with every turn of the page. Either he was nervous or just drunk, he couldn't tell. The pages were filled with fine late-twentieth-century cursive writing that was hard to read. Jack slowly read out each entry, making out every second word. The diary covered the time Erin had already started working for the Franklins to her death if it was the same Alice Franklin. He skimmed through the journal until stopping at an entry made on January 28th, 1898, where Alice mentioned hiring a new maid called Erin. March Twenty-first, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  I saw Robert engaged young Erin in the library. How I wish we do not have the same story as in Boston. August Fourteenth, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  That green-eyed temptress was with my son again. The Roman whore has plans for him. Jedidiah sees nothing. He pushes his son. Then reacts in fury when Robert is in strife. November Sixth, Eighteen Ninety-eight;  Constable Standish and his ghastly son shared supper with us. He has eyes for Emma. A boor. My darling daughter would never fall that low. Robert is forlorn. I see his glances at young Erin. When I call for her, the freckled-face jezebel smiles innocently. Jedidiah will end her services in the new year. Jack paused from reading, and tried to make sense. Green eyes. Freckles. It had to be Erin. Jack skipped ahead a couple of weeks, getting closer to the time when Erin died. December Twentieth, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  The Irish whore created a scene. Late in the evening, we found her under the influence. She screamed for Robert. She said she is with child. He is the father. She wants to be wed. That boy has ruined us. December Twenty-first, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  A clear-headed Erin spoke to us in the morning. She lies that she is not with child. The Catholic loves Robert, or it seems. Jedidiah and I agree to end her service. We will send her to Bangor tonight. It is clear to us. December Twenty-ninth, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  My heart is gone. Losing Emma is a great blow. They are to be wed in the next Spring. My son now lives in Boston. I pray his temperament is strong. Erin is gone, a life stopped by a stagecoach. Now I have an empty house. A lost daughter and a dead maid. Jack closed the diary and ran upstairs to his bedroom to grab his notepad, then came back down again. He needs to do more cardio. The two flights of stairs had destroyed him. He knew he had seen the name Standish somewhere. There at the family tree. After Erin's death, Emma married Nathanial Standish, son of the town constable. It made sense now; the Franklins murdered Erin and used the constable to help make it look like an accident. In return, they married Emma to his son to keep his silence. He knew what happened to Erin, but Jack wondered how he could help her. But; like what Ophelia said before, does he want her to move on to the next stage. It probably would be best for everyone. But if he could talk to her and discover her unfinished business, how could he help her. What if it meant getting vengeance on those that murdered her? What if it was on Franklin's living ancestors? The sound of the doorbell ringing jolted Jack from the thoughts of homicidal spirits. He checked his phone; it was nearly ten. Finishing another beer, Jack left the den and shuffled to the front door. He prayed that it wasn't his parents, that their stay in Massachusetts ended early, and now they wanted to talk about his future. "Ophelia?" Jack asked, opening the door.   Ophelia's Admissions. She stood there in the light rain, looking like another person. Far removed from the bored, unimpressed medium he saw days ago. She looked nervous, worried, but still attractive to Jack's eyes. The skirt she had on gave him a good view of her slender legs and made Jack think. Again, it had been two months since he last had sex, and he was now feeling it. "Hi," she said, barely audible. "Can I come in?" Jack nodded and let her pass. He tried not to look at her like that anymore; he needed to stay focused on Erin. "Look, I'm going to be honest with you. I'm a fake-ish. I go to people's houses and pretend that I feel something. I do a bit of cold reading, call out the spirits and then lie that they're talking back to me." Ophelia admitted. She paced back and forth as she spoke, nervousness flowing out from her. "Oh," Jack said, looking away. He didn't know what else he was supposed to say. "So, what are you doing here?" "Also, my name isn't Ophelia, it's Lucy. I felt Ophelia looked better on the website. Make it look real." She nervously smiled. "Why are you telling me this?" "Because;" she stepped forward, "what happened that day was real. I felt it, I really did." "Yeah?" Jack noticed that she was holding on to his hand like she was pleading with him. "I used to hear voices. I thought I was going crazy, but then I found out that I was hearing the dead; and I could talk to them. But I don't know, a mix of vodka, and my own cynicism; the spirits don't want to talk to me anymore. I want to feel like that again. I want to help you." Jack paused. Again, not knowing what to say. He felt that she could still be conning him, that she was going to ask for money. He still wasn't a hundred percent sure that Ophelia or Lucy was genuinely possessed by Erin. Then again, they could have had sex, which would be a weird move to pull when conning someone. Jack needed alcohol. "Do you want anything to drink?" He asked. "Please." Lucy nodded. Jack returned from the kitchen with a bottle of red wine and two glasses. It was the only alcoholic thing left in the house. After completely filling up both glasses on Lucy's request, he grabbed the diary and his notes, and they settled in the living room. He observed the psychic read the journal, his thoughts becoming more and more concerned about her looks. She had removed her thick coat, revealing a slinky tank top that gave him a glimpse of her bra. "So, you think Erin had sex with Robert Franklin; may have gotten pregnant; and the Franklins decide to murder her, to prevent a scandal?" "Yeah," Jack said, leaning in. There were both sitting on the sofa, awkwardly close together. "I don't know much or really anything about hauntings. But I only see Erin here. She must have been murdered here, and they faked the accident." "Erin being an Irish maid, the family are rich, and you got a friendly cop who is willing to help, if he gets a favor, that's a straightforward cover-up." Lucy smiled, patting Jack on the knee. "There is something we can do. I know people in the psychic and magic world. There's one girl who told me about this ritual-like thing. It's like a s ance on steroids. We can make her appear and we can talk to her. Then we can help her." "What's the catch? There is always a catch." "Not really. The s ance is a bit complicated and there is a shopping list, also it will be for a couple of hours only." "Sounds like a plan," Jack replied, raising a glass. They quickly finished their wine and poured some more.  Lucy asked him about his family and if they ever believed him. He told her about Dr. Miller, and how his dad would make the occasional jokes. When asked about their absence, Jack explained, and without realizing, underscoring that he had the whole house to himself. Jack then turned the attention on her, quizzing Lucy what happened when she first talked to a ghost; and what was the weirdest shit she had seen. As Lucy went through her backstory. Jack started picking up subtle clues about her. She was touching him more and getting close as she talked about hearing spirits when she turned thirteen. He tried to guess if Lucy was flirting with him, or was this some alcohol-induced delusion. After she finished her story about being asked to communicate with a woman's dead cat, they realized they were out of wine. Jack asked and quickly got another bottle on Lucy's insistence. "So, about you and Erin." She said, playing with the stem of her wine glass. "You were the only one to see her?  What relationship did you guys have?" "Like a friendship. Growing up; Erin was like my confidante. I would talk to her about every insane thought that was going through my head that day. I didn't know if she could hear me or not. It was comforting. I miss it. Guess that's why I'm here." "That's sweet." Lucy ran her hand down his thigh. "Sometimes I have some weird creeps that want to speak to their old teenage crushes, like teachers or neighbors that they used to jerk off to. It's nice to have a guy who just wants to reconnect to an old friend." Jack groaned. Looking at Lucy, his mind was made up, and he was sure that she was flirting with him. He should tell her the truth and see how she takes it. "I should tell you this. I have seen her naked." "Really?" Her eyes widened. "Yeah. On my 18th birthday, Erin appeared in my room and then flash, she's nude. She stood there for like a couple of seconds and poof, gone." Jack smiled, "That was the last time I saw her." "That's some present. Making me jealous." Lucy whispered, holding her gaze. "Really?" Jack said, leaning in. Lucy looked up at him, her tongue running over her pink lips. She craned her head forward and pressed her lips against his, her hand on the back of Jack's head, pulling him into her. Both were still holding their wine glasses, and Jack awkwardly pushed his mouth down on hers. Lucy's tongue shot out of her mouth and instantly snaked into his. They both softly moaned as Jack guided her body down on the sofa, nearly spilling her wine. She then suddenly stopped her tongue movements and pulled back. "Hold on, Ghostbuster." Lucy smirked, as she pushed Jack back upright. Taking the wine from his hands, she placed both glasses on the coffee table. With a shit-eating grin, Lucy grabbed Jack and resumed her mouth attack. Jack ran his hands down from her sides to her ass, pulling her on top of his lap. Lucy reached down and pressed her palm on Jack's bulge. She moaned into his mouth, sounding like she appreciated his size. She pulled her lips away, her attention now just all on his cock. Lucy fondled the turgid shaft through his pants, prompting it to throb in her hands. Jack leaned his head and slowly kissed down her neck, feeling her tremble in his arms. "Yes," Lucy said, closing her eyes and grinning. With a single-minded focus, Lucy unbuckled his jeans and yanked out his erect cock. Jack grunted, stunned by the blonde's eagerness. No other girl he had ever been with, was like this. They kept eye-contact as Lucy softly grasped his warm rigid shaft. Their lips met again while she stroked his cock, smearing her fingers with his oozing precum. While their tongues dueled again, Lucy's hand became a blur over his cock. They broke their kiss again, and Lucy lowered her head down, kissing his deep reddened tip. He watched in unbearable anticipation as she opened her mouth, but then instead of engulfing him, Lucy looked up and smirked. "Yeah, I'm bit of a slut," she said. "Just a bit? Jack grinned. "Okay, I'm a deeply deprived slut." She chuckled. Her very pink tongue then slid out of her mouth, and she licked up of his oozing fluid. Lucy took a moment to taste his precum, loudly humming and smiling at him. She then parted her lips and engulfed the bulging head in her wet mouth, firmly constricting, once his glans ridge was encased. Her tongue rubbed his frenulum, just under the tip.  She bobbed her head up and down, her firm round tits jiggling freely on his thighs, as she mouth-fucked him. "Oh; Fuck!" Jack grunted, taken by surprise by Lucy swallowing on more and more of his petrified cock. Lucy looked up and grinned at him again, before opening her mouth and engulfing him again. Her bright pink glossy lips slid up and down his shaft as she fucked him with her mouth. Then she sank til her nose rubbed his curly pubes, her teasing tongue gently caressed him as her throat muscle massaged his shaft, pushing his cock deeper. She hummed while she swallowed him, the hum of sucking filling the room. Her hands tightened their grip around his thighs as Lucy furiously pumped her lips up and down his cock. Once in a while, she would slowly pull his cock out, ever-so-gently running her teeth on the underside of his shaft while leaving huge trails of spit behind, then swallowing him again. It drove Jack mad in sexual bliss. She then wrapped her fingers firm around his meat again, lashing her tongue against his swollen cockhead, slurping up all the saliva and precum. Jack's balls were now sending messages to his brain, telling him that within seconds, he was going to cum; soon in big, bold letters. He also felt cold suddenly, and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing. He ignored that and watched the medium jerk him off, kissing his head as she worked the shaft of his phallus. Lucy stuck her tongue out and swirled it around his cock tip. But then he saw a figure near the TV. "Erin?" He said. She was right there and looked like she was in tears. A mix of fear and guilt hit him, destroying his previous horniness. But he still came, shooting thick loads into Lucy's face, hitting her in the lips and cheeks. She released her grip, but more jets of cum landed on her face. She raised her head and looked at Jack, the muscles in her face tensed, and her jaw clenched. "What the fuck, man? Give me some warning!" "Erin?" Jack said again, staring at the spirit. "Erin?" Lucy repeated. Her expression turned into an instant glare. But she followed Jack's gaze and looked over her shoulder, finding that they weren't alone. "Oh Fuck!" "No!" Erin screamed, deafening their ears. Her face was scrunched up in murderous intent. She lurched forward, and a force of wind cleared the table, sweeping the diary and notebooks off the surface. Jack and Lucy were pushed back by Erin's invisible energy, hitting the back of the couch. Erin raised her hands, maybe to strike, but felt her power evaporating. She looked at Jack, tears rolling down her cheeks, and then disappeared. Holiday Trimmings. Jack opened his eyes minutes before the alarm. It was Saturday and around ten. He sat up in his bed, his head still woozy from last night's drinking. He couldn't sleep and figured whiskey would knock him out. Also, he wanted to block out Erin's screams from replaying in his head. That face. Her expression dripping with anger and hurt. How Erin tried to attack them. He needed to say sorry. Erin probably won't believe him, Jack knew. But he had to try. Then there was what Lucy said, finding comfort so Erin can crossover. He hated thinking about that but realized that he couldn't be selfish. It wasn't about him. Jack's phone buzzed; he had gotten a text from his dad. It just said, 'Tree!'. Jack groaned, but he slipped out of the covers and took a shower. After getting dressed, Jack forced himself to eat something. He couldn't feel her. Usually, in December, he would see Erin more often than the rest of the year. Knowing that it was coming up to the day when she died, he expected to feel her. Two hours later, and overspending on a fir tree, Jack pulled into the driveway, confused. Lucy sat in front of the door, waiting for him. With a scared look on her face, she raised her hand and gave him a forced smile. Was she looking for him or for Erin? Jack climbed out of the car and slowly approached the young blonde. He never thought how she would take it, seeing Erin like that. After Erin faded away, Jack sat in silence while Lucy grabbed her stuff and bolted out of the house. "Hey," Jack muttered. "So, I have been waiting here for an hour. I walked away twice. But I really need to know. What the fuck did I see last night?" "I don't know," Jack said, looking away from Lucy's glare. "I've never seen her like this. She has never been this scary before. "Until;" "Until what?" Lucy stood up and got close. "You need to tell me." Jack sighed. "When you first came to the house, you tried to talk to her, right? Do you remember what happened next?" Lucy shook her head. "She took over your body and err; kissed me. We nearly had sex. But I stopped her. Telling her that it was wrong," Jack said, " to use your body like that." He quickly added. "Erin started shaking and going all Linda Blair. Then you woke up." "She gets rejected. Then she sees us on the couch, doing you-know-what, and takes it like a cheated-on girlfriend. That explains all the throwing." "I never knew she could do that." Jack smiled. "Can I ask you something?" Lucy stared into Jack's eyes. Jack shrugged and nodded his head. "What are you two? Is she your ghost girlfriend? Are you in love with her? What? Does she know what you are to her?" "Like I said, yesterday. Erin is my friend. Maybe there's more. I don't know, because I don't put labels on relationships with ghosts. But if I can help her, I will help her. Are you still in?" "Fuck it, yeah." He looked around, seeing his neighbors staring at him and Lucy. "Let's go inside. Can you give me a hand?" He asked, pointing to the tree. Lucy groaned but nodded her head. After undoing the bungee cords and dragging the tree off the car roof, the two of them awkwardly hauled the ten-foot fir inside the house. With Lucy leading, they pulled the tree into the living room, where the blonde suddenly stopped.  Jack was about to open his mouth, but he saw Erin standing in the middle of the room, and he went quiet. Erin raised her hands to her face, covering her eyes. Her breathing short and quick. She was freaking out. Erin then dropped her hands, clenching her fists as she glared at them. Her form floated to them, but unlike last night, there was no rush of force. Erin's face dropped, shifting into a scared expression. Dropping the tree, Lucy ran to her. She raised her hands up with open palms facing the spirit. "I am sorry. I am here to help you." She said, out loud. Erin didn't react. "He wants to help you. He wants to talk to you." Lucy pleaded with the spirit. Again, Erin stayed motionless. Lucy paused and looked over her shoulder at Jack. She mouthed 'trust me' at him and turned back to the ghost. "You can take over my body and speak to him. He would love that." Erin frowned, then faded into nothing. Jack walked past Lucy, trying to sense Erin's presence. There was nothing. He glanced at the medium; she had gone stiff, just like before. Jack's eyes bulged, realizing what was happening. But it was different. There was no sweat, no change in color, or fear on her face. Lucy just let out a small pleasurable moan. "Erin?" "What?" The woman barked back at him. "I just want to tell you that I am sorry. It was a mistake." "Liar. I saw you," Erin said, with no emotion in a unique tone. "Ye enjoyed every moment with the bonnie lass. I do not wish to intrude in your relationship with that adventuress." Her voice slowly morphed from Lucy's Mid-Atlantic accent to a faint Irish brogue. Jack sighed; he knew he had to deal with this. A simple apology wasn't going to be enough. "I'm so sorry about that. It's just that for a long time, there was this small voice in the back of my mind, saying that you weren't real and I was having a psychotic episode. When you saw me and Lucy, it was just an extension of that. I doubt it will ever happen again. But I did all this research so I can help you." "Help me?" "Yeah. I want to help you deal with whatever unfinished business you have. Lucy as well. That's why she's here. So, please don't be angry with her." "Unfinished business?" the voice then went quiet. She leaned in and kissed Jack on the cheek. Lucy's body went limp and she nearly collapsed. Jack reached out and slid his arms under her. He yelled out 'Erin'; then 'Lucy'; but got no answer. He dragged the unconscious blonde to the sofa. Carefully setting her down, Jack then prodded her cheek, trying to wake her up. She groaned and opened her eyes. "So, what are we going to do?" Lucy said immediately. Business Gets Busy. Jack looked at his phone as he walked through the front door. It was another email from his bosses in Boston. He had way too many people questioning his work. Being a cloud support engineer, he should be focused on the job. But since talking to Lucy about the s ance, Jack had been doing the bare minimum, and people were noticing. He figured that after he got closure with Erin, he could move on. Dumping the sage and wormwood on the coffee table, he saw her. Erin had been appearing more and more. Jack could actually count the times that she wasn't haunting the house. But he didn't get why; it was never this frequent back before. And she wasn't just haunting if you could call it, Jack's room. He had found her in the living room, kitchen and even the bathroom. Right now, Erin was floating near the Christmas tree. It was completely bare, left alone as Jack focused on work and the s ance preparations. There was some judgment he felt he was getting from Erin, like she still hadn't forgiven. Jack needed to remediate that, though he didn't really know how to regain trust with a ghost. He hunted for the Christmas decorations, taking longer than he hoped. Jack was desperate not to call his parents and deal with an endless conversation about how things were going in Springfield. Losing an hour to find them, Jack started decorating the tree, hoping that this will help him get back on Erin's good side. She carefully observed him as he decorated the tree, coating it in tinsel, lights and baubles. It appeared okay to Jack, the colors matched, and the string lights were all working. But looking at Erin, he was sure he had done something wrong. She wasn't that impressed. Jack first thought that she was still pissed at him, but then something hit him. While he saw her a lot during December, it was never on Christmas. This could be her first experience of Christmas in over a hundred years. With that, Jack opened his laptop and googled '19th century Christmas trees'. Getting an idea of what Christmas looked like in Erin's time, Jack grabbed his keys and told her that he will be back soon. Two hours later, Jack returned, and Erin looked like she was happy to see him. That's a positive sign, Jack said to himself as he emptied out his shopping bags. He bounced around a couple of stores before finding them, candle-like tree lights. Using real candles was a fire waiting to happen. And Jack didn't want to explain to his parents that he burnt the house down to impress a ghost. He then pulled out a ready-made popcorn and cranberry garland he got from a pop-up Christmas store. Looking at Erin, she approved by smiling back at him. He then added tinsel and icicle-like ornaments with Erin guiding him, pointing which branch needed something or if it was too much. Taking a step back, Jack admired his work. It looked old fashioned but still good. Seeing that Erin was happy was enough for him. He grabbed a beer from the kitchen and toasted, "That's one good-looking tree," he said, smiling at Erin. She rolled her eyes at him but then disappeared. That was getting Jack scared, her fading away just as they were bonding. It didn't look voluntary, like Erin really wanted to go to her void. She had this horrified look whenever it happened. Jack would then find her somewhere else in the house, an hour or two later. This time it was in the kitchen. He opened and closed the refrigerator door and found her there. Taking a moment to recover, Jack went back to making himself dinner. Erin hovered around him, curious at what he was doing. Jack guessed that she must have been shocked, that not many men cooked back in her time. He was also making pork chow-mein, and Jack wasn't sure how widespread Chinese food was in the 19th century. His phone began to buzz, and it was Lucy. Jack could see Erin's face turn. "She's probably asking about you," Jack said, putting his phone on speaker, "Hey Lucy." "Hey," she replied, "I got some news. We have to move the date of the s ance to the 12th. There's a full moon and it will go well with Hecate." "Hecate?" "Don't worry about it. Have you seen Erin since the other day?" Lucy asked, "Well, she is right here," Jack grinned at Erin, "She's in the room with me." "Whoa," she said, "How's that going? Wait shit, can she hear me?" Erin nodded. "Yeah." "Fuck. I mean shit. I mean I'm sorry," Lucy said, sounding like she was getting out of breath, "Anyway, I also need you to get some bundles of ash to burn. And candles, preferably black." "What is actually going to happen during the s ance?" "Hopefully, we can summon Erin properly and you guys can talk. Then maybe work out why is she here and if we can help her, somehow." Jack looked at Erin again. Her eyes were elsewhere. Jack started to doubt himself; was this something that she wanted him to do. "I will talk to you later, Lucy," Jack said, ending the call. Looking up from his phone, he saw that Erin had disappeared again. If the s ance actually works, Jack needed to ask where she goes whenever she vanishes. It didn't feel like a good place for her. Opening another beer, Jack sat down to eat and tried not to think about Erin. It was really hard. She still looked so sexy, and Jack was back replaying his eighteenth birthday present. Jack admitted to himself that with Erin randomly appearing in the house, he was feeling pent up.   Redhead Videos. It was close to two in the morning when Jack knew what he had to do. He had been rolling around his bed, got up twice and tried to dull his brain by checking the news on his phone. He still couldn't sleep. The only prescription that always worked for him was either whiskey or porn. As he couldn't be bothered to go all the way downstairs, Jack powered on his laptop and went straight to Porn. Jack checked out the video thumbnails, hovering over them as he tried to decide what he was in the mood for. Sometimes, he'd be craving blondes with double D-cups, getting plowed by massive cocks. Other times, it would be two lesbians slowly seducing each other. Milfs would be a good choice, but Jack felt that the algorithm would always then suggest stepmom porn, which he wasn't in to. He searched for amateur porn with Eastern Europeans, preferring their slender body shapes and lack of bad boob jobs. Jack sat up in his bed and pulled down his shorts, slowly stroking his cock to full, rigid life. He skipped the initial setup and forwarded it to the redhead pulling the guy's dick out. She grinned at the camera then kissed the man's purple head. Her tongue swirled around the tip before she quickly swallowed the man's cock. Jack shifted his weight as the redhead stripped off her top, revealing her decent-size tits. As the action turned to straight fucking with the twenty-something waitress bent over a park bench, Jack pumped his cock. He imagined himself there, in Prague, having hot, passionate sex in public. But then he felt cold. Looking up, there she was. Erin just appeared by the wall. She was confused and pressed the back of her head. It looked as if someone had just woken up, but in a different room than they were in before. She rolled her head around before stopping, and stared at Jack, her mouth agaip. He was illuminated by his laptop, so he knew that she could see what he was doing to himself. "Oh, fuck," Jack groaned, but he didn't stop stroking his cock. He thought she would float away, or scream, or do something, but Erin just stood there and watched. She even moved closer, standing at the edge of the bed. Her eyes focusing on his throbbing cock. Jack's heart was thumping as he frantically stroked his cock. His eyes darted back and forth from Erin to his laptop; the redhead had been replaced by a different model. She said that her name is Petra and is a med student, but what really turned Jack on was how Petra resembled Erin. Reddish-brown hair, slim body with perky tits, though she had tattoos and pierced nipples. His eyes bounced from Petra being fucked in a stall, to Erin's eager look. It was getting too much for him. His imagination then brought him to Prague again, but with Erin this time. He fucked her from behind, his cock pumping her hot, wet pussy, cupping her tits and making Erin groan in deep pleasure. Jack's balls were aching, then suddenly stopped, and he intensely climaxed. His tip exploded, and shot after shot of cum raced from his cock. Jack struggled to catch all his flying cum with a tissue. After cleaning himself, Jack and Erin exchanged looks. She was embarrassed, he could tell, staring at the ground and doing her most not to make eye contact. He wanted to say something, but Erin left the room. She didn't fade through the wall or vanish into anything, just walked away slowly. Jack then instantly fell asleep, not knowing what else to do.   A S ance. Jack opened the door, letting Lucy in. It was half two in the morning, and he was getting scared. A small sliver of thought wondered if she would let him down, or at least ask for $500 to proceed. For the s ance, Lucy had gone all gothic, wearing a black velvet dress and knee-high boots, also in black. She was carrying a large tote bag. There was panic in her eyes. She apologized for her lateness, saying that it took a while to get a cab. Jack was instructed by her, to get bundles of sage and wormwood for burning, plus ash. Lucy herself handled the weirder and harder to find items. She pulled out a knife that she called an athame, a ceremonial dagger Jack guessed. She also had a black bowl that she said is a water scry. It was going to help them talk to Erin. Jack led her to the kitchen and they quickly got ready. While she cut the sage and wormwood with the athame, speaking in Latin, Jack got the idea that this wasn't a con. It was real for her. That gave him hope. "So, where should we do this?" Jack asked, taking a steel bucket that she had handed him. "Your room." Lucy said, pulling more stuff out of her bag. "I've been thinking. You said you're the only one who saw her. And you normally see her in your bedroom, right? I think that's where she was murdered. By you sleeping there, a psychic link was created between you and Erin." Jack nodded. It made sense. They went to his bedroom; and with Lucy's help, he pushed his bed and everything else to one side, giving them space for the ritual. As they're going to make a fire, he opened the windows. Jack looked at the smoke alarms; if they go off, will his parents get an alert? Lucy got down on her knees and drew another circle on the floor, this time, a simple one without any other symbols. Jack lit the candles, twenty-four of them and placed them around the circle. Following her instructions, he then sat the bucket in the middle of the ring and lit the fire. Lucy took command of his bedside table and placed the porcelain bowl on top of it. She filled it with water from a special-looking bottle and dropped a crystal in it. "Take this and put it in the fire. Also, say her name in your head." Lucy said, handing him the sage and wormwood. Jack nodded and shuffled to the fire, trying not to drop the herbs. 'Erin, Erin, Erin,' he chanted in his head. He threw the herbs into the fire and was immediately overwhelmed by the aroma. It tasted sickly sweet, unnatural like. He then retreated behind Lucy; she was kneeling on the floor and speaking into the bowl. It sounded like Latin; Jack could make out the occasional word. She was calling out for Erin. The fire grew larger and smoke billowed from the bucket, looking like a volcano erupting. The smoke turned black, then blue and finally into grey. Jack took a step forward, in a trance, his mouth wide open and his hands trembling. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Lucy with her eyes clenched shut and was now calling Erin's name. Her fingers dug into the table and she frantically said 'Erin' over and over. He saw the smoke begin to clear and a body appeared above the fire. Jack gasped. Erin! She looked stunned, her hand covering her face. He opened his mouth but couldn't say a word, shocked. Color poured into her clothing, turning the transparent household dress into black. Her skin returned to its ivory color, while her hair became reddish-brown just as he saw ten years ago. Lucy had stopped chanting; she also was staring at Erin. She looked shocked, maybe a little scared. Lucy stood up and slowly shuffled towards Jack, resting a hand on his shoulder; but she kept her distance from Erin, using Jack as a possible human shield. Erin was just as surprised as the two of them. She reached out her arm, amazed by it. This was real. Erin moved forward but awkwardly stumbled as if she missed a step going downstairs. She then took a couple of more steps and touched the floor, a new sensation for her. Taking a deep breath, Erin became dazed with the menthol-like odor of burning sage. Her eyes lit up and a smile beamed from her face; she could smell. She then turned her head, focusing on the two, who had resurrected her. Her clogs banged against the wooden floor as she walked to Lucy. The psychic was trembling in her presence. Lucy flinched as she touched her arm. "Thank ye," Erin whispered. She then leaned in, and kissed the surprised blonde. Lucy moaned, instantly enjoying the kiss. Jack watched on, shocked. He didn't know if he should be terrified or turned on. Lucy wrapped her hands around Erin's waist and pushed herself against the resurrected maid. Overwhelmed by a sudden desire, Lucy slid her tongue deep into Erin's mouth. She felt good, but so tired. Erin then released the medium and watched as Lucy collapsed onto the floor in a deep sleep. She turned to Jack and grinned. "Erin?" Jack asked. His hands were trembling and he felt that he was going to sink into the floor. This is it, right? This was what he wanted, but he had no idea how to respond. "Is it really you?" He eventually spat out. "Hi, Jack," Erin smiled. "Fuck;" Jack said. He reached out and touched her hand with his. Wasn't this just supposed to be a s ance? "I can't believe I can touch you." "Me too," Erin said. "How are you?" Jack asked in a deeply sincere tone. "Confused. It felt I was being called by an unknown force. Then it took me." "I'm sorry, but I really wanted to talk to you." "I understand. Oh, it feels good to be heard and to speak with my own voice." "I need to tell you something," Jack said, "The reason we're talking is because I wanted to help you. But I never asked if you actually needed my help." She went quiet, looking like she was thinking something over, in her head. "You said about unfinished business. Bu

Tužiteljstvo u Milanu je trideset godina nakon završetka rata u Bosni i Hercegovini pokrenulo proces protiv osoba koje su navodno za vrijeme rata odlazile u Sarajevo kako bi tamo pucale po građanima opkoljenog grada. Čitava priča je u medijima dobila naziv "Sarajevo Safari"? Nenad Kreizer razgovara s Denisom Džidićem iz istraživačkog centra BIRN i reporterom Amirom Sužnjem o političkoj i pravosudnoj pozadini priče oko bogatih snajperista sa zapada. Von Nenad Kreizer.

Post-partita Genoa-Inter 1-2, 14 dicembre 2025. Gol Bisseck, gol Lautaro Martinez, gol Vitinha.

 Bridge Engineering: Part 1Two broken, single parents find healing.Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.And so it began. The start of another school year. I pulled my Jeep into the school grounds and took my place in the waiting drop-off lane. Children scurried about the school grounds with crisp back-to-school clothes and brightly colored backpacks not yet soiled and tattered from use. I winced internally as numerous mothers hugged their little ones, sent them into the building, and tearfully departed.My Elizabeth unfastened her seatbelt and eagerly fidgeted on the edge of the seat as we crept forward in line. Upon arrival at the designated unloading zone, Lizzie contorted herself over the center console and gave me a tight, all-consuming hug. "I love you Daddy!" she shouted as a volunteer parent opened the car door. And with that, she was gone in a flash. The volunteer and I just smiled at each other and shrugged our shoulders.In a repeat of years past, I drove away with a feeling of emptiness. Lizzie and I spent every minute of the summer together and I grew accustomed to her as my constant companion. It seemed like just yesterday that I dropped her off for the first day of preschool. Today it's third grade. How fast will the remaining years fly by before she leaves me all alone?I spent the day in a nearby coffee shop distractedly conducting business via email on my laptop. It wasn't rational, but somehow it felt better knowing I was only a couple minutes from the school, and from Lizzie. Time passed excruciatingly slow and I struggled to resist going to the school and being one of 'those' helicopter parents. Well, school ends at 2:50. I held out until 2:15.I was third in the line of vehicles waiting for pick-up and my eyes anxiously scanned the mass of children emerging from the school doors. It wasn't long before I spotted Lizzie joyfully skipping hand-in-hand with a girl I didn't recognize. She was rail thin, had a very lightly tanned skin tone, and towered above Lizzie. That wasn't too surprising since Lizzie took after her very petite mother and also barely made the birthday cutoff for her grade, but this girl was quite a bit taller than the average third grader.The girls zig-zagged as they skipped down the sidewalk with swinging arms and bouncing hair. Lizzie's straight and amber brown, her friend's a loose mass of dark curls. Lizzie spotted my Jeep and pointed it out to her friend. They hugged goodbye with Lizzie's arms around her friend's waist, and her friend's arms around Lizzie's head. I smiled at the height contrast and felt a sense of relief as Lizzie ran toward the Jeep.She climbed in and frantically began telling me everything about her day, a flood of words pouring from her mouth as if a damn holding them back had burst, "My teacher is Mrs. Pierpont and she is really nice and she has red hair. A boy named Alex sits next to me and he has shiny shoes. I had a hot dog for lunch and; and; and;”My heart felt comfort as she sat next to me and I heard the happiness in her voice. I needed her near me and to know that everything was ok.Lizzie had talked non-stop for 10 minutes and was still going as we headed toward home. The small-town streets gave way to a rural two-lane road as we headed out of town, and eventually the tires crunched along the gravel road leading to our house in the woods. It was the tranquil setting that I needed when Lizzie and I moved here 8 years ago."; and I met a new friend. Her name is Toni, well it's really Antonia, but she wants to be called Toni. Kind of like my name is Elizabeth, but you call me Lizzie. She is really nice and really tall. She has a pet frog."I interrupted to ask, "Is that who you were skipping with after school?""Yes, she in my class but she doesn't sit next to me. I met her when we were in line for lunch and we sat together. She brought a salad from home and bought a milk in the lunch line. She just moved here from somewhere else. Can I bring lunch from home tomorrow?"I patted her knee with my hand and said, "Of course, you can sweetie." as we parked in front of the house.It wasn't a large house but was plenty of space for the two of us. There was a great room, kitchen and half bathroom on the main level; two bedroom-bathroom suites and a loft space on the second level; and a semi-finished basement that I had been slowly working on for several years. It had all the modern technology and conveniences but was built with a rustic charm complementing its setting in the woods.We kicked our shoes off in the mudroom and Lizzie discarded her backpack into the coat cubby by the door. Lizzie, or more accurately, I, survived the first day of the school year. Only 179 more to go.Getting In A Rhythm.Lizzie and I settled into the school year rhythm over the next couple weeks and I began to slowly let go of my separation anxiety. Every day, I dropped her off at school, worked from home, then picked her up from school. Evenings were filled with homework, dinner preparation, and some form of relaxing time together. Lizzie particularly enjoyed walking in the woods and making up imaginary games with sticks, leaves, rocks, or other things she would find along the way. The grand finale of her outdoor adventures was always spending some time on a rope swing that I had hung from a tall oak tree. Other nights we might occupy ourselves with board games, cards, or television as the mood struck us. At the end of every night, Lizzie would get ready for bed then we would spend about a half-hour talking and reading a book of her choice before turning off the lights.I also noticed another pattern forming in those first few weeks of school. Lizzie was talking more and more about her new friend, Toni. They waited for each other to arrive in the mornings before going into the school together and would always emerge side-by-side in the afternoons. They were quickly becoming inseparable and I was happy to see her form that kind of relationship. Like me, Lizzie had always been socially reserved with only a few limited friendships.I saw her reserved personality opening up more and more with Toni, so one evening when Lizzie asked if she could invite her to play at our house, I readily agreed. I wrote my name and cell phone number on a note pad before tearing it out and handing it to Lizzie, "Ask her to have her parents call me and we will see if we can setup a time to play."Lizzie squealed and bounced up and down in excitement. She continued bouncing all the way to the mudroom and safely deposited the note in her backpack.Introductions.It was a couple days later, mid-morning on Thursday, that I answered a call from a number I didn't recognize. Thinking it was likely a business call, I answered, "Hello, this is David."A friendly but hesitant female voice replied, "Hi, I'm Stefani, Toni's mom.""Hi Stefani. It's nice to meet you, well, over the phone at least. Lizzie has been so excited to play with Toni!""Yes, I've heard a lot about Lizzie over the last couple weeks. Toni is excited too."I got down to details and asked, "When is Toni available?""Would Saturday afternoon, maybe around 1:00, work for you?""Yes, that would be just fine." Not knowing how many facts about our home life found its way to Toni's parents, I tried to be understanding of the fact that people can be cautious of sending their children, especially girls, to a single father's house. I tentatively asked, "Where would Toni be most comfortable? Lizzie would love for her to come here, or we are happy to meet at Triangle Park. Whatever works best for you."Stefani thought for a brief second, then replied, "Would you be comfortable dropping Lizzie off at our house for a couple hours?"I noticed that she said, "drop her off for a couple hours," which clearly meant I was not invited to stay. However, I didn't think much of it since a dad hanging around during a play date in someone else's house would be awkward at best."Yes, I'm sure Lizzie would enjoy that."Stefani gave me the address, then we exchanged closing words and ended the call. I sat and reflected on the conversation for a few moments. It all seemed very normal. Stefani seemed "normal" and was pleasant enough, though I sensed a business-like tone in her voice. I shrugged it off thinking, "How much can you tell from a 2-minute phone call?"Getting Together.I told Lizzie the news when I picked her up from school. She shrieked with excitement, did a little dance in her seat, and began counting the hours until 1:00 Saturday. She definitely got that over-enjoyment of simple things in life, and the dancing talent, from her mother!Saturday eventually arrived, although much too slowly for Lizzie's liking. After lunch, we hopped into the Jeep and rode into town with Lizzie impatiently fidgeting in the passenger seat the whole way. We pulled onto Depot Street near downtown and Lizzie helped me scan for the mailbox with the correct house number. I saw it from a distance and slowed down so she could have the discovery."There it is! There it is! 2 1 5!" she screamed.I brought the Jeep to a stop in front of a small, well-kept bungalow style home with an impressive display of annual flowers by the front steps. As soon as we stopped, Toni burst out the front door and bounded down the porch steps in a single leap. Likewise, Lizzie unfastened her seatbelt and threw open the door in one fluid motion. They met midway across the yard in a full speed, shrieking embrace.I smiled at their innocent joy as I unbuckled my seatbelt and walked around the Jeep toward the house. As I did, the front door opened and a tall, slender lady stepped out onto the porch in bare feet, wearing fashionably weathered blue jeans and a buff color corded sweater. She appeared to be in her early 30s and looked like the identical, older version of Toni. She was maybe around 5 foot 10, tall and had the same slender build, with addition of modest womanly curves at her hips and chest. Her chiseled facial features and shoulder length dark curls were also a matured version of Toni's.I approached the porch and offered a cheery "Hello! I'm David, nice to meet you."She crossed her arms and somewhat coldly replied, "Hi David," then with a voice inflection that implied more of an assertion than a question said, "Would it be ok for you to pick Lizzie up at 3:00?"I sensed the invisible barrier she was erecting and halted my progress toward the porch."Yes, that would be fine. I'll see you then."As I turned away to walk back to the Jeep, she flatly said, "Please don't be late."I didn't reply to her, but turned my attention to Lizzie and said loudly enough for my demander to hear, "Have fun girls! I'll be back Before 3:00 to pick you up Lizzie."While the lady on the porch didn't introduce herself, the voice matched Stefani's from our phone call a few days ago, and was equally business-like in demeanor. It's difficult to describe. She didn't project a mean or nasty personality that would have made me wary of leaving Lizzie, but she was definitely keeping her distance. The mystery of it piqued my curiosity and made me realize that, as much as Lizzie talked about Toni, she hadn't told me anything about her family.I ran a couple errands around town and returned to Lizzie's house at 2:50, ten minutes early. When I pulled up I saw numerous toys strewn across the front yard and heard playing voices and squeals coming from behind the house. Since I was early, I leisurely wandered the front yard picking up hula-hoops, jump ropes, a bicycle, and a few balls. As I deposited the last couple items into a neat pile next to the driveway, I heard Stefani's voice behind me softly say, "Thank you, you didn't need to do that."I turned to face her as she stood on the porch in the same jeans and sweater she had on earlier, "No worries. I was a little early and didn't want to intrude."With her arms crossed in front of her, Stefani somewhat timidly said, "Thank you for that too; for being early."Just then, the girls came running around the corner of the house screaming, "Spider! Spider! Spider!"I looked at Stefani, smiled and shrugged my shoulders. I corralled Lizzie and said, "It's time to go, is there anything you need to clean up?"Toni answered for her, "No, we just had toys out in the front yard. I'll put them in the garage."The girls pleaded for another play date as they hugged. Stefani simply answered, "We'll see."I gave a quick wave goodbye as Lizzie and I climbed in the Jeep and pulled away.Drop-offs and Pick-ups.Over the next few days, the pattern of school drop-offs and pick-ups with Lizzie and Toni as an inseparable pair continued, and Lizzie begged me relentlessly for another out-of-school play date with Toni. Given Stefani's tepid response at the end of the last play date, I was hesitant to initiate. However, Lizzie's continued insistence eventually wore me down and I made the phone call that Thursday.Stefani answered the phone with a simple, "Hello.""Hi Stefani. This is Lizzie's dad, David. How are you today?"She answered somewhat suspiciously, "I'm fine."After a second of not receiving any more of a response, I stumbled a bit with my words and added, "Uh, Lizzie would really like to get together with Toni again. I; I was just calling to see if you would be open to that."Stefani questioned sharply, "Why are you asking if I'm open to it?"I stumbled some more, "Uh; well; you sounded a little hesitant at the end of the last play date and; and I didn't want to be presumptuous about them getting together again."She coldly answered, "I'm fine with it.""Okay, good. It seems Lizzie and Toni are becoming fast friends."In an ever-so-slightly warmer tone of voice, Stefani asked, "When and where are you thinking?""How about Saturday afternoon again? Wherever you would prefer is fine with us.""Yes, that works. Saturday afternoon at 3:00. How about our house again?"I replied, "Sounds good. We'll see you then." before we exchanged goodbyes. I ended the cell phone call and loudly exhaled my relief that the awkward conversation was over.Building Friendships.The beginning of the second play date went much like the first; screaming girls happy to see each other, a cold reception from Stefani, and a firm directive to be there on-time to pick up Lizzie. It also ended similarly to the first play date. I arrived early, exchanged a few short words with Stefani, and gently guided Lizzie to the Jeep as the girls begged for more time together. This same routine became standard procedure over the next several weeks and a half dozen more play dates.The only change to the pattern occurred after the first few play dates, when Stefani and I began texting each other to make arrangements rather than talking on the phone. The texting suited me just fine as it avoided the awkwardness of our previous telephone conversations.Eventually, Lizzie started asking if Toni could come to our house to play. I avoided the subject as long as possible since I wasn't sure how Stefani would feel about Toni coming to a single father's house or, for that matter, even how much she knew about our family situation. After an especially persuasive appeal from Lizzie one afternoon, I caved and picked up my phone to text Stefani.I wasn't sure how to best approach the question and, after several re-writes, settled on a minimal and factual approach, "Hi Stefani. Lizzie would like to invite Toni over to our house for a play date."A couple hours later my phone buzzed with the simple reply, "Okay. When?"After a few exchanges of date options, we settled on that Thursday after school. Stefani offered to drop her off and I sent her our address.I told Lizzie the plan and she immediately began formulating a list of all the things they would do. The two activities that kept rising to the top were to show Toni her bedroom and play on a bridge that she and I had built over a small creek in the woods.It was a simple bridge made by spanning a couple logs from bank to bank, then covering them with old rough sawn slab wood for a walking surface that was about 6-feet wide. It wasn't much, but it was sufficient to occasionally get my small tractor to the other side of the creek and it was one of Lizzie's favorite spots in the world; running over it, throwing stones into the water, looking for crayfish, watching the squirrels and chipmunks, sliding on the frozen stream in the winter, etc. If the weather was nice, she would sometimes do her homework laying belly down on the bridge with her elbows propping up her upper body.It was also her spot of solace when she was sad or upset. She would sit on the edge swinging her feet below her until the surrounding woods healed whatever was bothering her. Eventually, she would meander her way back to the house in a much better mood than she left.She and I were a lot alike in that respect. It was the very reason I bought the property when we moved here, to get away from life and let nature heal some wounds.Inseparable.Lizzie was positively giddy during the ride home from school on Thursday. She recapped the list of things she had planned to show and do with Toni. I reminded her to be a good host and do the things that Toni wants to do, though I suspected that would easily be worked out between the now inseparable friends.As Lizzie shed her backpack and shoes in the mudroom, she asked, "Can we make chocolate chip cookies before Toni gets here?""Sure, I think we have all the ingredients. Start getting everything out."We had made cookies together enough that Lizzie knew where everything was located. She rushed around pulling ingredients, mixing bowls, and baking sheets out of the pantry. After confirming everything needed was present, Lizzie started measuring ingredients into the mixing bowl. I stood by to lend assistance when needed and occasionally clarify a fractional measurement or the difference between teaspoons and tablespoons.Other than a little incident with the flour, Lizzie did a great job mixing the cookie dough. Together, we spooned balls of dough onto baking sheets and put the first tray into the oven. Lizzie set the timer and I suggested she go clean the flour off her arms and face while they were baking.I cleaned errant flour from the countertop and floor while Lizzie washed up. Just as I finished and began to load the dirty bowls and mixing utensils into the dishwasher, the oven timer chimed and there was a knock at the front door almost simultaneously.Lizzie heard it and ran full speed to the door. I quickly dried my hands and hit the button to silenc

 Bridge Engineering: Part 1Two broken, single parents find healing.Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.And so it began. The start of another school year. I pulled my Jeep into the school grounds and took my place in the waiting drop-off lane. Children scurried about the school grounds with crisp back-to-school clothes and brightly colored backpacks not yet soiled and tattered from use. I winced internally as numerous mothers hugged their little ones, sent them into the building, and tearfully departed.My Elizabeth unfastened her seatbelt and eagerly fidgeted on the edge of the seat as we crept forward in line. Upon arrival at the designated unloading zone, Lizzie contorted herself over the center console and gave me a tight, all-consuming hug. "I love you Daddy!" she shouted as a volunteer parent opened the car door. And with that, she was gone in a flash. The volunteer and I just smiled at each other and shrugged our shoulders.In a repeat of years past, I drove away with a feeling of emptiness. Lizzie and I spent every minute of the summer together and I grew accustomed to her as my constant companion. It seemed like just yesterday that I dropped her off for the first day of preschool. Today it's third grade. How fast will the remaining years fly by before she leaves me all alone?I spent the day in a nearby coffee shop distractedly conducting business via email on my laptop. It wasn't rational, but somehow it felt better knowing I was only a couple minutes from the school, and from Lizzie. Time passed excruciatingly slow and I struggled to resist going to the school and being one of 'those' helicopter parents. Well, school ends at 2:50. I held out until 2:15.I was third in the line of vehicles waiting for pick-up and my eyes anxiously scanned the mass of children emerging from the school doors. It wasn't long before I spotted Lizzie joyfully skipping hand-in-hand with a girl I didn't recognize. She was rail thin, had a very lightly tanned skin tone, and towered above Lizzie. That wasn't too surprising since Lizzie took after her very petite mother and also barely made the birthday cutoff for her grade, but this girl was quite a bit taller than the average third grader.The girls zig-zagged as they skipped down the sidewalk with swinging arms and bouncing hair. Lizzie's straight and amber brown, her friend's a loose mass of dark curls. Lizzie spotted my Jeep and pointed it out to her friend. They hugged goodbye with Lizzie's arms around her friend's waist, and her friend's arms around Lizzie's head. I smiled at the height contrast and felt a sense of relief as Lizzie ran toward the Jeep.She climbed in and frantically began telling me everything about her day, a flood of words pouring from her mouth as if a damn holding them back had burst, "My teacher is Mrs. Pierpont and she is really nice and she has red hair. A boy named Alex sits next to me and he has shiny shoes. I had a hot dog for lunch and; and; and;”My heart felt comfort as she sat next to me and I heard the happiness in her voice. I needed her near me and to know that everything was ok.Lizzie had talked non-stop for 10 minutes and was still going as we headed toward home. The small-town streets gave way to a rural two-lane road as we headed out of town, and eventually the tires crunched along the gravel road leading to our house in the woods. It was the tranquil setting that I needed when Lizzie and I moved here 8 years ago."; and I met a new friend. Her name is Toni, well it's really Antonia, but she wants to be called Toni. Kind of like my name is Elizabeth, but you call me Lizzie. She is really nice and really tall. She has a pet frog."I interrupted to ask, "Is that who you were skipping with after school?""Yes, she in my class but she doesn't sit next to me. I met her when we were in line for lunch and we sat together. She brought a salad from home and bought a milk in the lunch line. She just moved here from somewhere else. Can I bring lunch from home tomorrow?"I patted her knee with my hand and said, "Of course, you can sweetie." as we parked in front of the house.It wasn't a large house but was plenty of space for the two of us. There was a great room, kitchen and half bathroom on the main level; two bedroom-bathroom suites and a loft space on the second level; and a semi-finished basement that I had been slowly working on for several years. It had all the modern technology and conveniences but was built with a rustic charm complementing its setting in the woods.We kicked our shoes off in the mudroom and Lizzie discarded her backpack into the coat cubby by the door. Lizzie, or more accurately, I, survived the first day of the school year. Only 179 more to go.Getting In A Rhythm.Lizzie and I settled into the school year rhythm over the next couple weeks and I began to slowly let go of my separation anxiety. Every day, I dropped her off at school, worked from home, then picked her up from school. Evenings were filled with homework, dinner preparation, and some form of relaxing time together. Lizzie particularly enjoyed walking in the woods and making up imaginary games with sticks, leaves, rocks, or other things she would find along the way. The grand finale of her outdoor adventures was always spending some time on a rope swing that I had hung from a tall oak tree. Other nights we might occupy ourselves with board games, cards, or television as the mood struck us. At the end of every night, Lizzie would get ready for bed then we would spend about a half-hour talking and reading a book of her choice before turning off the lights.I also noticed another pattern forming in those first few weeks of school. Lizzie was talking more and more about her new friend, Toni. They waited for each other to arrive in the mornings before going into the school together and would always emerge side-by-side in the afternoons. They were quickly becoming inseparable and I was happy to see her form that kind of relationship. Like me, Lizzie had always been socially reserved with only a few limited friendships.I saw her reserved personality opening up more and more with Toni, so one evening when Lizzie asked if she could invite her to play at our house, I readily agreed. I wrote my name and cell phone number on a note pad before tearing it out and handing it to Lizzie, "Ask her to have her parents call me and we will see if we can setup a time to play."Lizzie squealed and bounced up and down in excitement. She continued bouncing all the way to the mudroom and safely deposited the note in her backpack.Introductions.It was a couple days later, mid-morning on Thursday, that I answered a call from a number I didn't recognize. Thinking it was likely a business call, I answered, "Hello, this is David."A friendly but hesitant female voice replied, "Hi, I'm Stefani, Toni's mom.""Hi Stefani. It's nice to meet you, well, over the phone at least. Lizzie has been so excited to play with Toni!""Yes, I've heard a lot about Lizzie over the last couple weeks. Toni is excited too."I got down to details and asked, "When is Toni available?""Would Saturday afternoon, maybe around 1:00, work for you?""Yes, that would be just fine." Not knowing how many facts about our home life found its way to Toni's parents, I tried to be understanding of the fact that people can be cautious of sending their children, especially girls, to a single father's house. I tentatively asked, "Where would Toni be most comfortable? Lizzie would love for her to come here, or we are happy to meet at Triangle Park. Whatever works best for you."Stefani thought for a brief second, then replied, "Would you be comfortable dropping Lizzie off at our house for a couple hours?"I noticed that she said, "drop her off for a couple hours," which clearly meant I was not invited to stay. However, I didn't think much of it since a dad hanging around during a play date in someone else's house would be awkward at best."Yes, I'm sure Lizzie would enjoy that."Stefani gave me the address, then we exchanged closing words and ended the call. I sat and reflected on the conversation for a few moments. It all seemed very normal. Stefani seemed "normal" and was pleasant enough, though I sensed a business-like tone in her voice. I shrugged it off thinking, "How much can you tell from a 2-minute phone call?"Getting Together.I told Lizzie the news when I picked her up from school. She shrieked with excitement, did a little dance in her seat, and began counting the hours until 1:00 Saturday. She definitely got that over-enjoyment of simple things in life, and the dancing talent, from her mother!Saturday eventually arrived, although much too slowly for Lizzie's liking. After lunch, we hopped into the Jeep and rode into town with Lizzie impatiently fidgeting in the passenger seat the whole way. We pulled onto Depot Street near downtown and Lizzie helped me scan for the mailbox with the correct house number. I saw it from a distance and slowed down so she could have the discovery."There it is! There it is! 2 1 5!" she screamed.I brought the Jeep to a stop in front of a small, well-kept bungalow style home with an impressive display of annual flowers by the front steps. As soon as we stopped, Toni burst out the front door and bounded down the porch steps in a single leap. Likewise, Lizzie unfastened her seatbelt and threw open the door in one fluid motion. They met midway across the yard in a full speed, shrieking embrace.I smiled at their innocent joy as I unbuckled my seatbelt and walked around the Jeep toward the house. As I did, the front door opened and a tall, slender lady stepped out onto the porch in bare feet, wearing fashionably weathered blue jeans and a buff color corded sweater. She appeared to be in her early 30s and looked like the identical, older version of Toni. She was maybe around 5 foot 10, tall and had the same slender build, with addition of modest womanly curves at her hips and chest. Her chiseled facial features and shoulder length dark curls were also a matured version of Toni's.I approached the porch and offered a cheery "Hello! I'm David, nice to meet you."She crossed her arms and somewhat coldly replied, "Hi David," then with a voice inflection that implied more of an assertion than a question said, "Would it be ok for you to pick Lizzie up at 3:00?"I sensed the invisible barrier she was erecting and halted my progress toward the porch."Yes, that would be fine. I'll see you then."As I turned away to walk back to the Jeep, she flatly said, "Please don't be late."I didn't reply to her, but turned my attention to Lizzie and said loudly enough for my demander to hear, "Have fun girls! I'll be back Before 3:00 to pick you up Lizzie."While the lady on the porch didn't introduce herself, the voice matched Stefani's from our phone call a few days ago, and was equally business-like in demeanor. It's difficult to describe. She didn't project a mean or nasty personality that would have made me wary of leaving Lizzie, but she was definitely keeping her distance. The mystery of it piqued my curiosity and made me realize that, as much as Lizzie talked about Toni, she hadn't told me anything about her family.I ran a couple errands around town and returned to Lizzie's house at 2:50, ten minutes early. When I pulled up I saw numerous toys strewn across the front yard and heard playing voices and squeals coming from behind the house. Since I was early, I leisurely wandered the front yard picking up hula-hoops, jump ropes, a bicycle, and a few balls. As I deposited the last couple items into a neat pile next to the driveway, I heard Stefani's voice behind me softly say, "Thank you, you didn't need to do that."I turned to face her as she stood on the porch in the same jeans and sweater she had on earlier, "No worries. I was a little early and didn't want to intrude."With her arms crossed in front of her, Stefani somewhat timidly said, "Thank you for that too; for being early."Just then, the girls came running around the corner of the house screaming, "Spider! Spider! Spider!"I looked at Stefani, smiled and shrugged my shoulders. I corralled Lizzie and said, "It's time to go, is there anything you need to clean up?"Toni answered for her, "No, we just had toys out in the front yard. I'll put them in the garage."The girls pleaded for another play date as they hugged. Stefani simply answered, "We'll see."I gave a quick wave goodbye as Lizzie and I climbed in the Jeep and pulled away.Drop-offs and Pick-ups.Over the next few days, the pattern of school drop-offs and pick-ups with Lizzie and Toni as an inseparable pair continued, and Lizzie begged me relentlessly for another out-of-school play date with Toni. Given Stefani's tepid response at the end of the last play date, I was hesitant to initiate. However, Lizzie's continued insistence eventually wore me down and I made the phone call that Thursday.Stefani answered the phone with a simple, "Hello.""Hi Stefani. This is Lizzie's dad, David. How are you today?"She answered somewhat suspiciously, "I'm fine."After a second of not receiving any more of a response, I stumbled a bit with my words and added, "Uh, Lizzie would really like to get together with Toni again. I; I was just calling to see if you would be open to that."Stefani questioned sharply, "Why are you asking if I'm open to it?"I stumbled some more, "Uh; well; you sounded a little hesitant at the end of the last play date and; and I didn't want to be presumptuous about them getting together again."She coldly answered, "I'm fine with it.""Okay, good. It seems Lizzie and Toni are becoming fast friends."In an ever-so-slightly warmer tone of voice, Stefani asked, "When and where are you thinking?""How about Saturday afternoon again? Wherever you would prefer is fine with us.""Yes, that works. Saturday afternoon at 3:00. How about our house again?"I replied, "Sounds good. We'll see you then." before we exchanged goodbyes. I ended the cell phone call and loudly exhaled my relief that the awkward conversation was over.Building Friendships.The beginning of the second play date went much like the first; screaming girls happy to see each other, a cold reception from Stefani, and a firm directive to be there on-time to pick up Lizzie. It also ended similarly to the first play date. I arrived early, exchanged a few short words with Stefani, and gently guided Lizzie to the Jeep as the girls begged for more time together. This same routine became standard procedure over the next several weeks and a half dozen more play dates.The only change to the pattern occurred after the first few play dates, when Stefani and I began texting each other to make arrangements rather than talking on the phone. The texting suited me just fine as it avoided the awkwardness of our previous telephone conversations.Eventually, Lizzie started asking if Toni could come to our house to play. I avoided the subject as long as possible since I wasn't sure how Stefani would feel about Toni coming to a single father's house or, for that matter, even how much she knew about our family situation. After an especially persuasive appeal from Lizzie one afternoon, I caved and picked up my phone to text Stefani.I wasn't sure how to best approach the question and, after several re-writes, settled on a minimal and factual approach, "Hi Stefani. Lizzie would like to invite Toni over to our house for a play date."A couple hours later my phone buzzed with the simple reply, "Okay. When?"After a few exchanges of date options, we settled on that Thursday after school. Stefani offered to drop her off and I sent her our address.I told Lizzie the plan and she immediately began formulating a list of all the things they would do. The two activities that kept rising to the top were to show Toni her bedroom and play on a bridge that she and I had built over a small creek in the woods.It was a simple bridge made by spanning a couple logs from bank to bank, then covering them with old rough sawn slab wood for a walking surface that was about 6-feet wide. It wasn't much, but it was sufficient to occasionally get my small tractor to the other side of the creek and it was one of Lizzie's favorite spots in the world; running over it, throwing stones into the water, looking for crayfish, watching the squirrels and chipmunks, sliding on the frozen stream in the winter, etc. If the weather was nice, she would sometimes do her homework laying belly down on the bridge with her elbows propping up her upper body.It was also her spot of solace when she was sad or upset. She would sit on the edge swinging her feet below her until the surrounding woods healed whatever was bothering her. Eventually, she would meander her way back to the house in a much better mood than she left.She and I were a lot alike in that respect. It was the very reason I bought the property when we moved here, to get away from life and let nature heal some wounds.Inseparable.Lizzie was positively giddy during the ride home from school on Thursday. She recapped the list of things she had planned to show and do with Toni. I reminded her to be a good host and do the things that Toni wants to do, though I suspected that would easily be worked out between the now inseparable friends.As Lizzie shed her backpack and shoes in the mudroom, she asked, "Can we make chocolate chip cookies before Toni gets here?""Sure, I think we have all the ingredients. Start getting everything out."We had made cookies together enough that Lizzie knew where everything was located. She rushed around pulling ingredients, mixing bowls, and baking sheets out of the pantry. After confirming everything needed was present, Lizzie started measuring ingredients into the mixing bowl. I stood by to lend assistance when needed and occasionally clarify a fractional measurement or the difference between teaspoons and tablespoons.Other than a little incident with the flour, Lizzie did a great job mixing the cookie dough. Together, we spooned balls of dough onto baking sheets and put the first tray into the oven. Lizzie set the timer and I suggested she go clean the flour off her arms and face while they were baking.I cleaned errant flour from the countertop and floor while Lizzie washed up. Just as I finished and began to load the dirty bowls and mixing utensils into the dishwasher, the oven timer chimed and there was a knock at the front door almost simultaneously.Lizzie heard it and ran full speed to the door. I quickly dried my hands and hit the button to silenc

Get CRYPTID: The Creepy Card Battling Game https://cryptidcardgame.com/ Read our new wendigo horror novel https://eeriecast.com/lore Sign up for Eeriecast PLUS for bonus content and more https://eeriecast.com/plus SCARY STORIES TIMESTAMPS: 0:00 Intro 1:06 The Pale Ones - From - ConXIV14 20:00 A Cabin Encounter - From - Awkwardturd 32:53 How is this even possible - From - Anonymous 46:25 They were trying to hurt people - From - JustWanaFish Get our merch http://eeriecast.store/ Join my Discord! https://discord.gg/3YVN4twrD8 Follow the Unexplained Encounters podcast! https://pod.link/1152248491 Follow and review Tales from the Break Room on Spotify and Apple Podcasts! https://pod.link/1621075170 Follow us on Spotify! https://open.spotify.com/show/3mNZyXkaJPLwUwcjkz6Pv2 Follow and Review us on iTunes! https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/darkness-prevails-podcast-true-horror-stories/id1152248491 Submit Your Story Here: https://www.darkstories.org/ Subscribe on YouTube for More Stories! https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCh_VbMnoL4nuxX_3HYanJbA?sub_confirmation=1 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Thank you for tuning in to Bone Chilling Tales to Keep You Awake Podcast. Feel free to check out our sister podcasts, A Truly Haunted Podcast and True Whispers a True Crime Podcast. See you on the next dreadful episode. #scarystories #realstories #horrorpodcasts are #horrorpodcasts #horrorpodcast #horror #horrormovies #podcast #horrorfilms #horrorfilm #podcasts #horrormovie #film #films #movies #movie #horrorcommunity #horrorfamily #damnedmovies #moviesofthedamned #horrorobsessed #horrorfans #halloween #horrornerd #horrorfanatic #horrorpod #horrorfan #slasher #paranormal #horrorjunkie #horrorpodcaster #horrorgram #horrorcomedy #scarystories #scary #creepy #horrorstories #horror #scaryfacts #creepypasta #creepyfacts #creepystories #creepyfact #scaryfact #horrormovies #halloween #conspiracytheory #conspiracy #horrorstory #scarymovie #scaryposts #conspiracytheories #scarythreads #spooky #scaryvideo #horrorfacts #paranormal #horrorfan #horrors #scarymemes #haunted #horrorfact #ghost   Warning: This podcast may be: frightening · scaring · hair-raising · terrifying · petrifying · spine-chilling · bloodcurdling · chilling · horrifying · alarming · appalling · daunting · formidable · fearsome · nerve-racking · unnerving · eerie · sinisterBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/bone-chilling-tales-to-keep-you-awake--4731503/support.

Greg Swinehart, the former drummer of the band the Pale Pacific, has performed with Fair and Rose Blossom Punch. In this episode, we explore Greg's life and music career as well as his journey into finding out what helping people really means.    If you like the Podcast, Subscribe! You can find us on all major Podcasting platforms at Welcome to the Scene Podcast. Instagram TikTok Youtube

SH'KOYEKH – LE YIDDISH VOUS PARLE, Émission présentée par Macha Fogel Elle reçoit la professeure Gabriella Safran, professeure de langues et littératures slaves à l'Université de Stanford (États-Unis). Ensemble, elles chercheront dans la culture yiddish des réponses à la question suivante : Qu'est-ce que parler et écouter veut dire ? À propos du livre : « Wandering Soul: The Dybbuk's Creator, S. An-sky » paru aux éditions Harvard University Press Shloyme-Zanvl Rappoport, known to the world as An-sky, was the author of The Dybbuk, the best known work of Yiddish/ Hebrew theater. During a tumultuous life, he left his mark on a dizzying array of political and cultural movements, Russian and Jewish, and seemingly crossing paths with just about every significant member of the radical intelligentsia of his time. Born in the Pale of Settlement in 1863, An-sky experimented with a variety of identities across virtually his entire adult life, from Jewish Enlightener to Russian Populist, writer, ethnographer, Zionist, and finally, Jewish communal relief worker during the cataclysms of the First World War. An-sky is a singularly interesting historical figure as he, like few others, encapsulates a crucial era of Jewish history - an era that marked the birth of modern Jewish politics and a modern, secular Jewish culture. Gabriella Safran est professeure de langues et littératures slaves à l'université de Stanford.

A thrilling tour of Earth that shows the search for extraterrestrial life starts in our own backyard.Is there life off Earth? Bound by the limitations of spaceflight, a growing number of astrobiologists investigate the question by studying life on our planet. Astronomer and author Jon Willis shows us how it's done, allowing readers to envision extraterrestrial landscapes by exploring their closest Earth analogs in The Pale Blue Data Point: An Earth-Based Perspective on the Search for Alien Life (U Chicago Press, 2025). With Willis, we dive into the Pacific Ocean from the submersible-equipped E/V Nautilus to ponder the uncharted seas of Saturn's and Jupiter's moons; search the Australian desert for some of Earth's oldest fossils and consider the prospects for a Martian fossil hunt; visit mountaintop observatories in Chile to search for the telltale twinkle of extrasolar planets; and eavesdrop on dolphins in the Bahamas to imagine alien minds.With investigations ranging from meteorite hunting to exoplanet detection, Willis conjures up alien worlds and unthought-of biological possibilities, speculating what life might look like on other planets by extrapolating from what we can see on Earth, our single “pale blue dot”—as Carl Sagan famously called it—or, in Willis's reframing, scientists' “pale blue data point.” Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

A thrilling tour of Earth that shows the search for extraterrestrial life starts in our own backyard.Is there life off Earth? Bound by the limitations of spaceflight, a growing number of astrobiologists investigate the question by studying life on our planet. Astronomer and author Jon Willis shows us how it's done, allowing readers to envision extraterrestrial landscapes by exploring their closest Earth analogs in The Pale Blue Data Point: An Earth-Based Perspective on the Search for Alien Life (U Chicago Press, 2025). With Willis, we dive into the Pacific Ocean from the submersible-equipped E/V Nautilus to ponder the uncharted seas of Saturn's and Jupiter's moons; search the Australian desert for some of Earth's oldest fossils and consider the prospects for a Martian fossil hunt; visit mountaintop observatories in Chile to search for the telltale twinkle of extrasolar planets; and eavesdrop on dolphins in the Bahamas to imagine alien minds.With investigations ranging from meteorite hunting to exoplanet detection, Willis conjures up alien worlds and unthought-of biological possibilities, speculating what life might look like on other planets by extrapolating from what we can see on Earth, our single “pale blue dot”—as Carl Sagan famously called it—or, in Willis's reframing, scientists' “pale blue data point.” Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/science

A thrilling tour of Earth that shows the search for extraterrestrial life starts in our own backyard.Is there life off Earth? Bound by the limitations of spaceflight, a growing number of astrobiologists investigate the question by studying life on our planet. Astronomer and author Jon Willis shows us how it's done, allowing readers to envision extraterrestrial landscapes by exploring their closest Earth analogs in The Pale Blue Data Point: An Earth-Based Perspective on the Search for Alien Life (U Chicago Press, 2025). With Willis, we dive into the Pacific Ocean from the submersible-equipped E/V Nautilus to ponder the uncharted seas of Saturn's and Jupiter's moons; search the Australian desert for some of Earth's oldest fossils and consider the prospects for a Martian fossil hunt; visit mountaintop observatories in Chile to search for the telltale twinkle of extrasolar planets; and eavesdrop on dolphins in the Bahamas to imagine alien minds.With investigations ranging from meteorite hunting to exoplanet detection, Willis conjures up alien worlds and unthought-of biological possibilities, speculating what life might look like on other planets by extrapolating from what we can see on Earth, our single “pale blue dot”—as Carl Sagan famously called it—or, in Willis's reframing, scientists' “pale blue data point.” Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

A thrilling tour of Earth that shows the search for extraterrestrial life starts in our own backyard.Is there life off Earth? Bound by the limitations of spaceflight, a growing number of astrobiologists investigate the question by studying life on our planet. Astronomer and author Jon Willis shows us how it's done, allowing readers to envision extraterrestrial landscapes by exploring their closest Earth analogs in The Pale Blue Data Point: An Earth-Based Perspective on the Search for Alien Life (U Chicago Press, 2025). With Willis, we dive into the Pacific Ocean from the submersible-equipped E/V Nautilus to ponder the uncharted seas of Saturn's and Jupiter's moons; search the Australian desert for some of Earth's oldest fossils and consider the prospects for a Martian fossil hunt; visit mountaintop observatories in Chile to search for the telltale twinkle of extrasolar planets; and eavesdrop on dolphins in the Bahamas to imagine alien minds.With investigations ranging from meteorite hunting to exoplanet detection, Willis conjures up alien worlds and unthought-of biological possibilities, speculating what life might look like on other planets by extrapolating from what we can see on Earth, our single “pale blue dot”—as Carl Sagan famously called it—or, in Willis's reframing, scientists' “pale blue data point.” Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/popular-culture

In this episode of Skin & Soul: Beyond the Pale, I sit with Mark Steven Porro — actor, designer, accidental entrepreneur, and the son who walked straight into the chaos, comedy, and heartbreak of caring for his mother in her final years. Mark's award-winning memoir, A Cup of Tea on the Commode, captures the wild contradictions of eldercare:how a parent becomes a child again,how dignity hangs by a thread,how humor saves you when nothing else can,and how love gets louder as memory fades. We talk about the small rebellions, the forgotten names, the guilt, the tenderness, the absurdity, the devotion, and the surprising joy that arrives when you're forced to show up in ways you never imagined you could. This is a conversation about the human comedy of decline — and the unexpected beauty in loving someone through their second childhood.

This week we look into a semi-humanoid, slack-looking cryptid that's been sporadically popping up on cameras around the world. These bizarre beings resemble walking pants. Pale, stick-like legs with tiny heads, no arms, and an unsettling waddle that's both creepy and...odd. Grab a limited edition Fresno Nightcrawler shirt. Want more? Join the Frightday Society, at http://thefrightdaysociety.org As a Society Member, you'll have access to all Screamium content (Behind the Screams, It's Been a Weird Week, A Conversation With..., Toast to Toast PM with Wine Kelly, Cinema Autopsy, the Writers' Room, bonus episodes of Captain Kelly's Cryptids & Conspiracies, Byron's Serial Corner, and so much more! You'll also be part of our interactive community dedicated to the advancement of horror, hauntings, cryptids, conspiracies, aliens, and true crime. All things frightening. Keep our mini-fridges full of blood...I mean...not blood...normal things that people drink...by going to http://shop.frightday.com Theme music by Yawns Produced by Byron McKoy Follow us in the shadows at the following places:  @byronmckoy @kellyfrightday @frightday This is an Audio Wool Original.

This week Dan is on Vacation. The other guys talk about the history of the Pale Night. An ancient power who ruled the Abyss long before the current Demon Lords. What is she and how has she maintained power in the Abyss for so long?

If you think Mount Vesuvius is scary, wait until you hear about Campi Flegrei! This supervolcano has 24 underground craters and makes Vesuvius look small in comparison. The crazy part? Half a million people live right in the danger zone today! Even though it hasn't erupted in 500 years, scientists have noticed it's getting more active lately. With over 1,000 small tremors happening each month, people are starting to pay attention. If Campi Flegrei blows, it could be a major disaster! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

My cheating wife's face went pale, and she screamed. Her lover turned, saw me, and stumbled to his.Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/true-cheating-wives-and-girlfriends-stories-2025-true-cheating-stories-podcast--5689182/support.

My cheating wife's face went pale, and she screamed. Her lover turned, saw me, and stumbled to his.Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/true-cheating-wives-and-girlfriends-stories-2025-true-cheating-stories-podcast--5689182/support.

U 214. epizodi Njuz Podkasta ulazimo u "Ćacilend" – analiziramo atmosferu straha i apsurda koja je obeležila Srbiju. Nakon što je Dijana Hrka prekinula štrajk glađu, osvrćemo se na brutalnost policije u Novom Sadu, gde su mete postali čak i maloletnici. Zašto je zlo u Srbiji postalo toliko patetično? Dok nam prete američke sankcije zbog NIS-a, a ministarka energetike paniči, Vučić i Siniša Mali igraju igru "dobrog i lošeg policajca". Mi imamo bolje rešenje – otkrivamo ekskluzivni plan kako da Njuz.net kupi Naftnu industriju Srbije i reši krizu sa benzinom jednom za svagda. Takođe, komentarišemo kako je Milan Antonijević postao SNS kandidat i sahranio mit o "menjanju sistema iznutra".

Music and collabs are in the very blood of Athletic Brewing, so it was an easy partnership for Althetic and The Warpped Tour to collab on a Hoppy Pale Ale called Side Stage. Bright citrus flavors with a hint of citrus and tropical hop flavors all balanced with a clean finish will have you asking your self, "are you sure this is a NA beer?"

This week, Alexis tells Grace about a dog napping, a spooky shaman, and not getting your scooter back. Episode: Decoy for a Dognapper | Scooby Doo, Where Are You? | Season 1 | Episode 4 | 1969 | Hanna BarberaFollow SMM on Instagram: @satmornmyst Subscribe wherever you're listening so you never miss an episode! Email us your show requests: saturdaymorningmysteries@gmail.com Check us out on YouTube: https://tinyurl.com/satmornmyst Music: Avis Akekee, https://avisakekee.bandcamp.com/

durée : 00:05:01 - C'est une chanson - par : Frédéric Pommier - Avec les médecins Cloé Brami et Violaine Forissier, il vient de publier "Vivre avec vivre après" (ed. L'iconoclaste). Au micro de Frédéric Pommier, le psychiatre et psychothérapeute Christophe André témoigne de son affection pour la chanson "A Whiter Shade of Pale" du groupe anglais Procol Harum. Vous aimez ce podcast ? Pour écouter tous les autres épisodes sans limite, rendez-vous sur Radio France.

The door to her parents' bedroom was always closed. That night, it wasn't. She was only eight or nine when she woke up hungry in the middle of the night. As she made her way toward the kitchen, she noticed something strange—their bedroom door was wide open. Inside stood a woman she'd never seen before. Pale skin, white hair, eyes sunk deep into shadow, and a flowing white dress that shimmered like fog in moonlight. The woman turned and looked straight at her. She didn't scream. She didn't run. She just fell—the world going dark in an instant. She'd never fainted before, and she's never fainted since. But something changed after that night. Ever since the encounter, she's lost pieces of time—thirty minutes, sometimes whole hours, simply gone. She's searched for answers, tried to rationalize it, but everything leads back to the same memory: the open door, the woman in white, and that impossible, hollow stare. #RealGhostStories #WhiteLady #HauntedNorthCarolina #TimeSlip #ParanormalEncounter #Supernatural #TrueGhostStory #GhostlyApparition #MissingTime #HauntedChildhood #CreepyStories #BeyondTheGrave Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

Click Here to Text us. Yes really, you totally can.Click Here to Text us. Yes really, you totally can.The boys are back again with a HOT FULL EPISODE, where we talk about...Guess WhatGuy accidentally gets all his co-worker's pay...is not very honest about it!Can't put down your phone? PUMP THOSE MUSCLES INSTEAD.Oreo's is committing war crimes again.Even WeirderKangaroo flexes on all of usWhat do YOU believe in??Yet another UFO sightingA Pocong attacks!Beyond The PaleIt's all about BLOBS on this week's Beyond the Pale! Crawling blobs, floating blobs, we got it all! Mike's sources:Source 1Source 2Source 3Source 4Source 5Whatcha Wanna Talk About?The boys play a game of POKEMON or MEDICATION. It's much harder than you think.Check Out Our Website!Join our Discord!Check out our Merch Store HERE!Follow us @theneatcast on TikTok!Follow us @neatcastpod on BlueskyFollow us @neatcastpod on Twitter!Follow us @neatcastpod on Instagram!Follow us @theneatcast on Facebook!

Oder doch lieber nicht? Henning und Till sprechen über den Mann im Spiegel…über den zurzeit alle sprechen. Und warum man lieber einen großen Bogen um Löcher machen sollte – denn man weiß nie, was da unten auf einen lauert…und seien es nur die eigenen Abgründe. Da sagen wir doch: leave me alone! Die Songs der Sendung: 1) Roadhouse Blues / The Doors2) The hole / Townes Van Zandt3) She belongs to me / Bob Dylan4) Leave me alone / H-Blockx5) Mann im Spiegel / Haftbefehl6) End it / Pale horse7) Turnstile / Blackout8) Freak dreams / Slope Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Theme: Judgment, Obedience, and the Centrality of God Pastor Matthew's study covered Zechariah chapters 6–7, drawing parallels between Zechariah's visions, the rebuilding of Jerusalem, and God's eternal plan through Christ. The lesson highlighted how obedience, humility, and keeping God at the center are essential for both spiritual and national restoration. Context and Background Zechariah ministered during the time when Israelites were returning from Babylonian exile to rebuild the temple and the walls of Jerusalem. Nehemiah oversaw the wall; Zechariah encouraged the people spiritually. The prophet's visions often had dual meaning—addressing the present rebuilding work while also pointing forward to the coming Messiah and end-time judgment. Vision of the Four Chariots — Zechariah 6:1-8 Zechariah saw four chariots coming from between two mountains of bronze, symbolizing God's judgment. The red, black, white, and dappled horses represent divine forces sent throughout the earth—similar to the four horsemen in Revelation 6. Pastor Matthew explained the parallels: Red horse – war and conflict Black horse – famine and economic imbalance White horse – deception (often representing the Antichrist's early false peace) Pale horse – death and destruction The vision shows that God rules over all nations, directing both natural and spiritual forces to fulfill His plans. Application: Every believer will face judgment—not for salvation, which is secured in Christ—but for stewardship and obedience. “Think of judgment not as punishment,” Pastor said, “but as whether we've disappointed the One who's given us everything.” Spiritual Reality: The Host of Heaven Zechariah's vision reveals an unseen world—“the spirits of heaven”—at work on God's behalf. Pastor connected this to Jacob's vision at Mahanaim (“two hosts”) and Jesus' words about angels ascending and descending on the Son of Man. Believers are surrounded by heavenly hosts and benefit from their ministry, but only “in Christ”—our access point between heaven and earth. The Crowning of Joshua the High Priest — Zechariah 6:9-15 God commands the making of an elaborate crown to be set on Joshua the high priest, symbolizing restoration. Joshua foreshadows Christ, the true High Priest, called “the Branch”, who will build the spiritual temple of the Lord and reign as both King and Priest. Pastor explained that this prefigures Jesus as the eternal priest “after the order of Melchizedek,” whose covenant was established before the foundation of the world. Core truth: “As long as God stays at the center, everything else—children, crops, work—will be blessed. But when people place themselves in the center, things fall apart.” Obedience as the Condition for Blessing Zechariah 6:15 ends with a key phrase: “This shall come to pass if you diligently obey the voice of the Lord your God.” Pastor emphasized that: God's promises are certain, but our participation in them depends on obedience. Failure doesn't cancel grace—repentance restores relationship. David was contrasted with Saul: both sinned, but David repented, while Saul disregarded God's word and lost his kingdom. Willful disobedience—knowing God's command and ignoring it—invites discipline and loss. Practical Lessons — Zechariah 7 By Chapter 7, the teaching turned practical: People asked if they should continue fasting as before. God responded: “Did you fast for Me—or for yourselves?” Their rituals had become hollow habits. God desires obedience and sincerity over religious performance. Pastor quoted Samuel's reminder: “To obey is better than sacrifice.” The Heart of True Religion Zechariah 7:9–10 commands: “Execute true justice, show mercy and compassion, do not oppress the widow or the fatherless, the alien or the poor, and let none of you plan evil against his brother.” Pastor expanded: When in doubt—have mercy, because “you're going to need it too.” God's longsuffering exceeds anything we could show others. Examples included the conversion of an abortion doctor and Joyce Meyer forgiving and caring for her abusive father—proof of the gospel's transforming power. True love does not ignore truth: “You don't have to compromise truth to love people; real love tells the truth.” The Danger of Refusal Israel's ancestors “stopped their ears” and “made their hearts like flint”, rejecting God's word. Pastor warned that when people repeatedly ignore God, He eventually allows them to experience the consequences of their choices. Cross-references included Proverbs 1:20–33 and 2 Thessalonians 2:10–12, showing how those who reject truth can fall into strong delusion. He cautioned America to heed this warning: “Our greatest danger isn't military or economic—it's turning our backs on God and Israel.” Closing Reflection God's mercy and truth work together. The goal is not religious performance but a surrendered, obedient life centered on God. The nation of Israel was restored through obedience; the same principle governs believers and nations today. Pastor closed in prayer, thanking God for His Word and declaring: “We love truth—even when it rebukes or corrects us—because the Spirit and the Word agree.” Core Takeaways Judgment is real, but so is grace. God must remain the center—life flourishes when we revolve around Him. Obedience outweighs ritual. Mercy triumphs over judgment. Truth without love is harsh; love without truth is hollow. A nation or believer that hardens its heart toward God risks losing His blessing.

J&M Sports 101 Podcast | S6E11Yamal mete chale lan LDC a Eske Liverppol gen lot pwoblem Eske Arsenal ap bon ane a?Xabi pran premye klasiko li pa rate gwo deba sa ke J&M Media Groupe pote pou ou, Like comment e pataje (share) ak tout zanmiw

It started like so many hauntings do — with a whisper in the dark. Fourteen-year-old Natasha thought it was just her little sister asking a question: “Want to play with me?” But when she turned, it wasn't her sister standing there — it was Jessy. Pale, with uneven bangs and a strange, knowing smile. A little girl who shouldn't have been there… because Jessy wasn't alive. This is the terrifying true story of a young girl who encountered what she first believed to be a harmless child spirit — only to discover that even the smallest ghosts can leave the deepest scars. Jessy didn't scream. She didn't throw things. She appeared quietly, curiously… until one night, everything changed. Was it jealousy? Possessiveness? Something darker? Natasha still doesn't know. But the handprint was real. And so was the fear. This haunting story explores themes of sibling rivalry, maternal intuition, and the terrifying unpredictability of unseen forces. It's not just about ghosts — it's about the moment you realize you are no longer alone, and maybe never were. Because sometimes, the dead really do want to play. #TrueGhostStory #HauntedHouse #ParanormalActivity #RealHaunting #CreepyStories #GhostEncounter #JessyTheGhost #ScaryStoryTime #RealGhostStoriesOnline Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

BCC Episode #348 | Zombie Bigfoots Cryptid Crypt Week 4! It's L-Files form the Crypt a Michael and RIley read some startling new listener stories about ufos and haunted houses! Plus what are the spookiest places on Earth? And… was a man attacked by a Carolina Pale Walker? It's a BCC “BOOS” segment you'll never forget. Carolina Pale Walker 911 Call Pale Walker History BCC Merch Shop Peacedrone.net This Episode is Brought to You By… Miracle Made - Upgrade your sleep with Miracle Made! Go to https://trymiracle.com/BCC and use the code BCC to claim your FREE 3 PIECE TOWEL SET and SAVE over 40% OFF. – SHOW INFORMATION Bigfoot Collectors Club is produced by Riley Bray and Michael McMillian YouTube Channel Listener-Files Submissions: BigfootCollectorsClub@gmail.com. Instagram: https://bit.ly/3W7izlL | Blue Sky: https://bsky.app/profile/bccpodcast.bsky.social Our theme song is “Come Alone,” by Suneaters, courtesy of Lotuspool Records. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

It started like so many hauntings do — with a whisper in the dark. Fourteen-year-old Natasha thought it was just her little sister asking a question: “Want to play with me?” But when she turned, it wasn't her sister standing there — it was Jessy. Pale, with uneven bangs and a strange, knowing smile. A little girl who shouldn't have been there… because Jessy wasn't alive. This is the terrifying true story of a young girl who encountered what she first believed to be a harmless child spirit — only to discover that even the smallest ghosts can leave the deepest scars. Jessy didn't scream. She didn't throw things. She appeared quietly, curiously… until one night, everything changed. Was it jealousy? Possessiveness? Something darker? Natasha still doesn't know. But the handprint was real. And so was the fear. This haunting story explores themes of sibling rivalry, maternal intuition, and the terrifying unpredictability of unseen forces. It's not just about ghosts — it's about the moment you realize you are no longer alone, and maybe never were. Because sometimes, the dead really do want to play. #TrueGhostStory #HauntedHouse #ParanormalActivity #RealHaunting #CreepyStories #GhostEncounter #JessyTheGhost #ScaryStoryTime #RealGhostStoriesOnline Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

RB Ham is a Canadian political commentator, activist and former candidate for office under the People's party. He was part of the freedom movement/Trucker protest 4 years ago. He is currently the host of the "Beyond the Pale" podcast. 02:00 - His run for the people's party in Canada, inspired by lockdowns and censorship, the Chronology of the Canadian trucker's protest, obstacles of a smaller party 22:22 - The domination of the two-party system, Carney's path to the presidency 48:18 - politicians are NOT our heroes, How Trump became "Teflon Don," are restrictions a test phase for limits for authoritarianism? Plus, how far are we going to take foreign intervention? If we already know it's up/down, then why are we fighting harder on left/right? 59:26 - Back to the "Freedom protest," the disagreement with mandates, and the consequences of free speech, the problem is up/down, billionaires and the rest of us, understanding acute narcissistic disorder 1:19:01 - Orwell, HG Wells, and the books that saw a lot of this coming, Shogun being great read AND series/movie, the interesting journey of Jesse Ventura 1:30:40 - The powerful tool of forgiveness, and speaking up for people who cannot help themselves, also, politicians are not heroes and vote for your agenda, not the party agenda 1:50:11 - Does Trump's ego "Trump" the right thing? Plus, a story about Jimmy Dore (NOTE: There is a possibility the story did not involve him - to the best of my memory, people around us identified him as "Jimmy", conspiracies, and the right to reject or accept them based on historical behavior 2:03:12 - Why we "love" Peter Hotez

 After the terrible discovery high in the mountains, Sheriff Flynn reflects on his past. Dr. Cooper travels to examine a fellow veteran from the Great War, one who bears deep scars, both physical and emotional. Later on, at the town's Winter Carnival, Hattie overhears some disturbing information regarding the deaths of some local men. Additional Voices by David Broshar and Strother Stingley Listener discretion advised If you are enjoying the show, please consider leaving us a rating and review to help us grow. For more information about the production and creative team, visit superhappyproductions.com.

The Today in Manufacturing Podcast is brought to you by the editors of Manufacturing.net and Industrial Equipment News (IEN).This week's episode is brought to you by Redzone. In this exclusive video, Claremont Foods discusses some of the exciting ways in which manufacturers are leveraging the latest tools to make productivity gains. Watch Claremont Foods Shares the Secret to OEE, right now.Every week, we cover the five biggest stories in manufacturing, and the implications they have on the industry moving forward. This week:- BlueOval Accused of Making Employees Work Off the Clock- If Trump's America First Program Works, Where Will We Get the Workers?- Thieves Steal $1M Worth in Craft Whiskey from Washington Distillery- 50-Year-Old Skateboarding Legend Hits 65 MPH as He Flies Down 22-Story Building- Fatal Workplace Incident: Robotic Machine Crushes ManagerIn Case You Missed It- Police Pulled Over a Self-Driving Waymo But Had No One to Ticket- Lufthansa to Replace 4,000 Jobs Using AI, Digitalization- Engineers Make a Working Parachute Cut from a Sheet of Plastic 

Los mal llamados "Clásicos" arrastran la pesada carga de haber durado más de lo que se esperaba y ser la música de las "Grandes Ocasiones” pero, sobre todo, de haber caído en manos de una “élite” envarada, rancia y empingorotada con frecuencia.Se olvida que hunden sus raíces en una civilización avanzada que construye un sofisticado lenguaje de cuyas costuras escapan canciones, melodias y armonías sublimes. Desde las bodegas de Bach, "Whiter Shade of Pale" de Gary Brooker, desde las de Chopin, "Jane B” de Gainsbourgh o desde las del Maestro Rodrigo "Aranjuez mon amour”. Quizás a muchos sorprenda saber que Elvis abría sus conciertos con Strauss y los cerraba con "Can t Help Falling in Love”, inspirada por “Plaisir d amour" de JP Egide (XVIII)."Roll over Beethoven” cantaba Chuck Berry a la llegada del Rock. No tan deprisa, amiguito.

J&M Sports 101 Podcast | S6E7Papa Yamal pale de ballon d'or lan anpil Haitien tap vote sou emosyon lan ballon d'or lan ou Liverpool back to back defet Real pran bwa kale lan main ATM rate gwo deba sa ke J&M Media Groupe pote pou ou, Like comment e pataje (share) ak tout zanmiw

(00:00-33:38) Sometimes when you fail you can fail upwards. Jackson is the Alex Smith of sports talk radio. Where's Tim is the theme of the day. Questions for Joey. Why is Joey misbehaving? Elite culture. Can you offend yourself? Audio of Mike Shildt on the questionable strike three call in the 9th. Roboumps. Rick Pitino. Slowly rotting. Doug has multiple Emmy's. Dotem changed the game at St. Louis Magazine.(33:46-53:01) Good final tune up for The Note last night. Michael Jordan conspiracies. Audio of Mike Shildt talking about the disappointing series loss to the Cubs. Hey slugga, can I get a quote? Rounding the bases with Hank Aaron. Doug's rooting for the Cubs. We need a St. Louis version of "Go Cubs Go." Cubby Bob and Hockey Bob. Benedict Vaughn.(53:11-1:07:35) My girl, Bill. I've seen the Ice Storm. Audio of Drink on Wake Up Barstool talking about the college football playoff. Is the money gonna dry up if fans and boosters don't feel like they're getting a return? Audio of Drink talking about being 5-0 and the tough schedule ahead. The landscape of NIL and the transfer portal.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Tom is a fascinating man. He's shot lasers at the moon and measured their reflection. After studying astrophysics at Cal Tech he taught at UCSD for years. But there came a point where his awareness of the destructiveness of the machine made it impossible to keep making adjustments to its smooth functioning. Unlike many people confronted with that contradiction, Tom walked away, choosing freedom of thought over financial stability and ego gratification. This is the first part of what I hope will be an on-going conversation. Part two is coming next week.You can read Tom's thoughts at his newsletter, called Do the Math.Here's a taste of our conversation. If you prefer to see/hear the whole thing, here's a link to the full video.Intro music “Brightside of the Sun,” by Basin and Range. “Whiter Shade of Pale,” performed by Steve Winwood and Carlos Santana. Outro: “Smoke Alarm,” by Carsie Blanton.If you buy from Amazon, my link is here. (You can click on it once, then bookmark that as your go-to Amazon link so it'll always work.)Buy some merch from my mom here.Find other Tangentialistas around the world! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit chrisryan.substack.com/subscribe

She was just a sweet, kind-hearted old landlady who couldn't keep her nose out of other people's business. This was very unfortunate for Mr. Thobal. The Man Who Was Pale by Jack Sharkey. That's next on The Lost Sci-Fi Podcast.Let's step back in time to December 1959, when Fantastic Science Fiction Stories delivered eerie, unforgettable tales. On page 78, Jack Sharkey delivers an atmosphere of dread that creeps in quietly and refuses to let go, reminding readers why the pulp era was a golden age of unsettling imagination, The Man Who Was Pale by Jack Sharkey…Next on The Lost Sci-Fi Podcast, On a still night under a rising golden moon, a man begins to reveal the strange vision that has haunted him since childhood. What follows is a chilling account of a life he only lives in dreams. The Dream Snake by Robert E. Howard.Survey - https://podcastsurvey.typeform.com/to/gNLcxQlkRise - http://bit.ly/45So7Yr☕ Buy Me a Coffee https://www.buymeacoffee.com/scottsVDiscord - https://discord.gg/EXrY7UHT

Vi kickstartar avsnittet med att följa upp från tisdagens ekonomiavsnitt. Hur mycket spenderar vi egentligen på mat varje månad? Stämde Mathildas gissning på 5–6000 och Andreas på 12–14 000? Hur mycket sparar ni lyssnare? Andrea har varit iväg på kickoff med sin nya agency och har kommit till en lite sorglig insikt gällande hur hon ser på sig själv och sitt yrke. Med hösten och vintern framför oss har Andrea kommit fram till att hon och Mathilda borde börja följa tipsen kring "pale girl makeup". Hur ska man egentligen sminka sig för att jobba med och inte emot sin blekhet? Mathilda delar med sig av sina bästa tips för att få ihop matlagningen i veckorna. Hur mealpreppar hon till jobbet? Vilka rätter lagar hon och Oskar flera gånger per månad? Trenden "unfortunately I love..." tas in i studion och vi delar med oss av våra mindre positiva vanor som vi vägrar sluta med. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Oh what a feeling, a mouse in the ceiling. Helpful hardware person. Cheating stoners. Thickened Beverage Plant. How Many Flushes. Why Do We Have a Mint Drawer? Hardware Person? Just Call Them a Tool! Law Offices of Naked, Sweaty, Pale, and Erratic. This Soap is Too Sharp. Built In Playtesters. Don't Touch The Green Ones. Was there a movie about baseball dreams in a field called something 'of Dreams'? Hot & Heavy then Toothpaste, with Amy. I don't like vampires who are les...BEEEEEEEEN! Permanent Sticky and more on this episode of The Morning Stream. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Oh what a feeling, a mouse in the ceiling. Helpful hardware person. Cheating stoners. Thickened Beverage Plant. How Many Flushes. Why Do We Have a Mint Drawer? Hardware Person? Just Call Them a Tool! Law Offices of Naked, Sweaty, Pale, and Erratic. This Soap is Too Sharp. Built In Playtesters. Don't Touch The Green Ones. Was there a movie about baseball dreams in a field called something 'of Dreams'? Hot & Heavy then Toothpaste, with Amy. I don't like vampires who are les...BEEEEEEEEN! Permanent Sticky and more on this episode of The Morning Stream Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Send us a textMystery begins around 16 minutes. "Behind Mansion Walls: Death Before Divorce" is Season 2, Episode 6Gross, pale weirdo Dick Sharpe (yes) marries the lovely Karen right after high school. He's pale, he's a weirdo and he's super insane. That never is a good combo for a successful marriage. Support the showCheck out our website: https://www.buzzsprout.com/837988 Linktree: https://linktr.ee/itsalwaysthehusbandpodcast Like our Facebook page and join our group!! Instagram: @itsalwaysthehusbandpodcast Twitter: @alwaysthehubs Etsy Shop: https://www.etsy.com/shop/ItsAlwaysTheHusband?ref=simple-shop-header-name&listing_id=776055218 Theme song by Jamie "I'm Gonna Kill You, Bitch" Nelson

Some paranormal encounters are quiet. Subtle. Easy to doubt. This one was not. One listener, a seasoned professional used to handling every type of personality imaginable, found themselves frozen with fear during what should have been an ordinary hiring event. Dozens of job applicants filled the waiting room, but one young man stood out immediately. Pale, stiff, strangely formal for his age—he sat alone, hands folded neatly on the table, never glancing at his phone. Then, as if sensing her gaze, he looked up. And that's when she saw them.  Not pupils. Not irises. Just eyes that were completely, impossibly black. In that instant, she felt sick—panic crashing through her as one chilling thought flashed in her mind: That boy has no soul. The feeling was so overwhelming, she couldn't bring herself to approach him. When she asked coworkers if they'd processed his paperwork, no one had. When she turned back to the table, he was gone. No application. No exit. Nothing. But this wasn't the only story shared that day. Another caller described a terrifying night in rural Ohio: a fire in the backyard, a panicked friend chased by something massive from the bushes, and a dog frozen in terror as a tree shook violently on its own. His friend swore the creature was nine or ten feet tall—a brush with Bigfoot, or something darker? Two very different stories. One thread in common: both witnesses left forever changed, knowing they had looked into something not of this world. These are the moments that haunt you long after the lights go out—the kind you can't explain away, no matter how badly you want to.  #RealGhostStories #BlackEyedChildren #ParanormalEncounters #CreepyStories #DemonicPresence #TrueGhostStory #ParanormalActivity #BlackEyedMan #HauntedEncounters #BigfootSighting Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

Tonight we have creepy pale crawlers, chilling ghostly activity, a telepathic dogman and so much more. Keep it spooky and enjoy! Season 19 Episode 44 of Monsters Among Us Podcast, true paranormal stories of ghosts, cryptids, UFOs and more, told by the witnesses themselves. SHOW NOTES:  Support the show! Get ad-free, extended & bonus episodes (and more) on Patreon - https://www.patreon.com/monstersamonguspodcast Tonight's Sponsor - Lumi Gummies THC & CBD gummies - Feel good, not stoned. Get 30% off your order with code MAU at LumiGummies.com Tonight's Sponsor - Greenlight debit card for kids & teens - Teach your kids real-world money skills, start your risk-free Greenlight trial today at Greenlight.com/MAU Believing the Bizarre Podcast - https://believingthebizarre.com/ MAU Merch Shop - https://www.monstersamonguspodcast.com/shop MAU Discord - https://discord.gg/2EaBq7f9JQ Watch FREE - Shadows in the Desert: High Strangeness in the Borrego Triangle  - https://www.borregotriangle.com/ Monsters Among Us Junior on Apple Podcasts  - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/monsters-among-us-junior/id1764989478 Monsters Among Us Junior on Spotify - https://open.spotify.com/show/1bh5mWa4lDSqeMMX1mYxDZ?si=9ec6f4f74d61498b Eric's "comet UFO" photo - https://bit.ly/42heJwo Polaris Dawn - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polaris_Dawn Virginia pale crawler - https://phantomsandmonsters.com/post/996286261378564686 Gettysburg ghost story - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GyI2lu7EUtU Best of Bray Road movie - https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0462193/ Washington Snohomish County dogman sighting -  https://northamericandogmanproject.com/encounters    Fredericksburg, TX dogman sighting -  https://northamericandogmanproject.com/encounters    Monsters Among Us Linda S Godfrey - https://bit.ly/4puVGJc Rupert Sheldrake - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rupert_Sheldrake Rupert Sheldrake interview - https://www.instagram.com/reel/DL5dUXxtITZ/ The Man Who Sees UFOs movie - https://bit.ly/4nmJwzY Music from tonight's episode: Music by Iron Cthulhu Apocalypse - https://www.youtube.com/c/IronCthulhuApocalypse CO.AG Music - https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCcavSftXHgxLBWwLDm_bNvA Music By Karl Casey @ White Bat Audio - https://www.youtube.com/@WhiteBatAudio White Bat Audio Songs: Anamorphic Channel 4 Prince of the City Calling You Heart of Darkness

your favorite duo is back this week: Halley and Jaz dive straight into the week's wildest headline, Taylor and Travis are officially engaged. the two spiral into full-on parasocial mode, breaking down everything from the shock of a collab post announcement to imagining what the wedding guest list and security would even look like. Jaz jokes about becoming a bodyguard, Halley debates whether it will be a mega-celebrity event or a secret ceremony, and both of them can't help but laugh at just how invested they've become in a couple they've never met.from there, the conversation flows into a whirlwind of personal updates. Jaz vents about the chaos of her home renovations, accidentally sending the most questionable texts to her contractor, and realizing just how much fences cost in Long Island. health takes center stage as well as Halley navigates her workout routine and spray tan obsession, and as the two debate TikTok's “pale girl exposure therapy” trend, listeners get a raw and hilarious look at how they balance wellness, vanity, and everything in between.as always, the episode is packed with their signature hilarious banter. they go off about awkward gynecologist appointments, friendship trio politics when it comes to picking a maid of honor, a specific chaotic experience at a bathhouse that ended in no massage, and the bizarre etiquette breaches they've witnessed at influencer events like the US Open. add in puppy potty-training wins and the iconic story of Halley accidentally doubting herself about James Marsden literally living across the street, and you've got a jam-packed episode full of laughter, relatability, and the kind of storytelling only Halley and Jaz can deliver.Timestamps 0:18 - Celebrating the royal engagement6:34 - Halley's health updates13:20 - Pale girl exposure therapy 18:17 - Gyno appointments and drinking water22:35 - Maid of honor controversy 26:40 - Haircuts and husbands 29:46 - “Not looking for a husband, but looking for a father”35:19 - Stacy updates 40:29 - Providing context 45:53 - The US OpenLinks DraftKings: Download the app and sign up with code DELUSIONALSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Gary Owen joins Ralph Sutton and Aaron Berg and they discuss guys lying about their height, Gary Owen's divorce experience, winning Best Black Comic in 1997, lying about doing a benefit with Jim Carrey, only sleeping with one white woman, living with a gangster in Los Angeles, getting a TV deal with Quincy Jones, having a private conversation with OJ Simpson, a game of Words In The Hood where they try to guess the definition of urban slang terms, preparing for Daddy Day Care and so much more!(Air Date: August 27th, 2025)Support our sponsors!YoKratom.com - Check out Yo Kratom (the home of the $60 kilo) for all your kratom needs!Visit https://prizepicks.onelink.me/LME0/SDR and use code SDR and get $50 in lineups when you play your first $5 lineup! To advertise your product or service on GaS Digital podcasts please go to TheADSide.com and click on "Advertisers" for more information!You can watch The SDR Show LIVE for FREE every Wednesday and Saturday at 9pm ET at GaSDigitalNetwork.com/LIVEOnce you're there you can sign up at GaSDigitalNetwork.com with promo code: SDR for discount on your subscription which will give you access to every SDR show ever recorded! On top of that you'll also have the same access to ALL the shows that GaS Digital Network has to offer!Follow the whole show on social media!Gary OwenTwitter: https://twitter.com/GaryOwenComedyInstagram: https://instagram.com/GaryOwenComedyRalph SuttonTwitter: https://twitter.com/iamralphsuttonInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/iamralphsutton/Aaron BergTwitter: https://twitter.com/aaronbergcomedyInstagram: https://instagram.com/aaronbergcomedyShannon LeeTwitter: https://twitter.com/IMShannonLeeInstagram: https://instagram.com/ShannonLee6982The SDR ShowTwitter: https://twitter.com/theSDRshowInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/thesdrshow/See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.